Found and Beautiful
by The Owlish Olympian
Summary: Cameron Morgan, self-trained spy, meets Zachary Goode after beating up a street drunk. She is taken to the Gallagher Academy and is asked if she's heard about it. Oh boy, she has, and knows way more than she should. What happens when Zach reaches out? ZAMMIE!
1. Chapter 1: I'd be disappointed

**A/N: This is the most inspired story I've ever written. It will be multiple chapters and I think I'll update quickly. I love this story so far! Please Review and enjoy!**

**Officially Disclaimed.**

I'm not going to lie, growing up by yourself is no easy job. I can't say I've really enjoyed it, either. However, I enjoy who I have become.

"Hey girly," the gruff man whispers, wrapping his arms around my hips, "Care to have a drink?"

I flip him over, using his leverage against himself.

Come on! What would you do if you were in a dark alley by yourself with a drunk man practically groping you?

Okay, I can understand if you don't have a rehearsed response.

I walk away casually, not wanting to let anyone on that what had happen _did_, in fact, happen. I cautiously, but unnoticeably, look around at the entrance of the alley.

And I come face to face with Zachary Goode.

Whoa, you're probably saying, slow down. How do you know it's him?

I, actually, am a self-trained spy. So I've hacked into the CIA a couple of times. I know everyone.

"Hi," I greet him. He just smirks.

"You're Cameron Morgan, right? The one who, according to my sources, knocked out eight guys single-handedly in order to defend a little girl?" he asks, handing me an envelope.

I glance at the seal and it reads:

The Gallagher Academy

For Exceptional Youth

I gasp at the title. He can't be serious…

"So you've heard of it? Well, it is the top private school in Virginia. We want you to come there. That school is made for people just like you. The top school in training elite women," Zachary informs me.

Now don't go crazy on me. Like I said, he's in the CIA's records of going to Blackthorne Institute. At least, used to. It merged with Gallagher last couple of weeks.

"Yeah," I whisper, "also the top school in training elite spies!"

He grabs me sharply, his eyes suddenly dangerous. I don't even flinch, used to the rough-grit of the streets. Which, by the way, is definitely how he's acting.

"How do you know about—never mind. You're coming with me," he orders firmly, pulling me towards a black limo down the street.

We drive quickly for about an hour and fifteen minutes, racing through the neighborhoods of Virginia until we reach the sign that says, 'Welcome to Roseville'.

We only get out of the limo when we are past the massive stone walls. I notice every security camera, every single guard. I notice that no alarms seem to go off—quite subtly, I'll admit—until I get out of the car.

I walk up and see two girls, one with gorgeous black hair with icy blue eyes and a nose ring, the other with coffee colored hair and exotic-looking skin, looking towards Zach.

"Hi, I'm Macey. This is the Gallagh—" she starts, but I cut her off.

"I know what this is," I reply calmly, but firmly. A tone that carefully traces around, 'Don't you dare mess with me'.

Macey—the senator's daughter, I assume—looks at me with a bit of surprise, and a slight measure of hurt. Then her glance turns hard and suspicious. Bex is glaring at Zach and I can already tell that they don't get along, even more so now that he's dragged in a rogue spy-in-training.

They lead me through the heavy oak doors, girls bustling through the hall to change classes. I see a stained glass window above me, a winding grand staircase parallel to it. A beautifully aged woman who seems familiar emerges from the top steps of the twin staircase next to the stained glass parallel and calls, "Zach? Is this the new student?"

The woman looks at me with some excitement, anticipation, and sorrow. I know this isn't going to be good. They drag me up the stairs, not literally, and I am soon seated across from the woman in a leather chair with a cup of tea being offered to me. I accept, though not really thirsty or in the mood for lemon, and kick my feet up onto her desk, to her blatant astonishment. My combat boots are clean, however, and she doesn't seem to correct me. I sip my lemon tea and can finally place her.

"You're Ms. Rachel Morgan, correct?" I inquire politely. But she's a spy and knows that I have a reason for knowing that. I don't become suspicious at the name, however. Morgan is a common name.

"Yes," she answers, the door opening behind us. Her gaze drifts briefly towards the incoming students, but doesn't seem concerned. I, on the other hand, look at the nearest reflective surface and see—I realize after a few moments, of course—Grant Newman, Elizabeth Sutton, Jonas Anderson, and Rebecca Baxter filing in behind Zachary and Macey McHenry.

I remove my feet carefully and spin around in the chair.

"Grant Newman, Elizabeth Sutton, Jonas Anderson, Macey McHenry, Zachary Goode, and Rebecca Baxter," I list, taking a small sip of my tea. "How nice of you to join us."

Grant, Elizabeth, Jonas, Macey, and Zach all look surprised. Baxter, on the other hand, looks murderous.

"She called me Rebecca," Baxter growls, charging towards me before the others can do anything. I turn her somersault midair with one hand and address her as she lays on the ground, stunned.

"I'm afraid you're wrong, my dear, I called you Rebecca Baxter. But if you dislike the name Rebecca, I suppose I can just call you Baxter."

I turn around to Ms. Morgan again. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

"I think it's more rather a case of you telling me what you know," she specifies sternly.

I sip some more tea before setting it down and saying, "Ah, yes. Well, ask me what you want to know."

"Okay," she agrees. "What do you know about Gallagher?"

I pause, thinking about how to deliver this. "The Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Women founded by Gillian Gallagher. Recently changed to The Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Youth. Security cameras: 117 **(A/N: I'm pretty sure this isn't the real number. If someone could please PM or Review with it, it would be much appreciated.)** Students: 750 girls, 400 boys. Level of clearance needed to have knowledge about Gallagher: 4. Teachers include: Mosckowitz, Dabney, Smith, Solomon—"

"Okay! We get it, you know a painful lot about the Academy. What can you tell us about the people in this room?"

"Hmm. Grant Newman: previous attendant at Blackthorne, which, by the way merged with Gallagher, for another, in romantic relationship with Baxter, junior, on the Covert Operations track, loves to eat," I add in wittingly.

"Jonas Anderson: Previous attendant at Blackthorne, in relationship with Elizabeth Sutton, junior, on the Research and Development track. Macey McHenry: Senator's daughter, cosmetic heiress's daughter, obviously attendant at Gallagher, ridiculously rich, smart enough to catch up to junior, on the Covert Operations track. Elizabeth Sutton: again, Gallagher student, was published in Scientific American at age 9, junior, on the Research and Development track. _Rebecca _Baxter," I sigh.

"Only non-U.S. citizen ever accepted into Gallagher Academy, parents are MI5/MI6, top fighter at Gallagher Academy, junior, on the Covert Operations track. Zachary Goode: My, so many things I shouldn't know about you. So many things I don't have clearance for," I warn them, smiling maliciously.

"Previous attendant at Blackthorne, in the top ten of CIA's greatest spies, junior, on the Covert Operations track. Mother," I state. His face twitches a bit, but remains smoothed over. "You think you can hide your discomfort. It's a pity. Anyways, your mother, Catherine Goode, is the ring leader of the terrorist organization: the Circle of Cavan. Killed her own husband, even. Such a shame."

I stand up and begin to walk out the room, turning back to the open-mouthed group of spies for a moment before saying, "I hope I answered most of your questions. If I answered them all, I'd be disappointed."

**A/N: ENJOY? Again, PLEASE REVIEW. If you are wondering why she kept referring to Zach as Zachary it's because she can't know he goes by Zach. Now she does.**


	2. Chapter 2: Can you let me go now?

The door slams behind me as I set off down the tiny foyer suspended over the entrance to the Dining Hall. I head to my left, hang a right, and keep going forward until I turn right again down the left of the twin staircases.

"Ms. Morgan, get back here this instant!" Zach calls. I ignore him and stride confidently into the middle of the large vestibule in front of the doors.

"Ms. Morgan!" he shouts again, more agitated, as he tramples across the upwards halls hot on my heels.

I stop and turn around to face him, glancing down at my black boots and midnight skinny jeans. Glancing back up at him, I see he is frozen on the staircase, probably afraid that, if he moves, I will storm off again.

"Yeah?" I ask abruptly, wanting him to get to the point.

He huffs and continues down the bending stairs, finally hopping down the last step in front of me as he comes closer, getting up front and personal.

"Ms. Morgan," he reiterates for the second time, "I'm afraid I cannot let you leave. You know too much about the school. If I let you leave, you might tell someone els—"

"I wouldn't blow your cover," I state firmly, angry that he would even think of it. "And I'm certainly not going up to your headmistresses office to drink some memory tea."

He does a double take. "How do you even—never mind. The better question is, how do you know you haven't drunken any already?"

I cock my head. "Memory tea has a certain…tang to it. An extremely unpleasant aftertaste. Your headmistress seems to prefer high quality tea. _Normal_ high quality tea."

"And how would you know what memory tea tastes like?" Zach fires back readily.

I roll my eyes before roughly jerking him towards me by his collar. "Give me some credit, _Blackthorne Boy_." I spat it out like a cuss word. "Being a self-trained spy isn't all that easy. Especially, it entails certain things. Like black market memory tea. I had to use it on myself, leaving a not to myself that I did, so I would know what it was like."

Zach's mouth curls itself into a smirk. "So _that's_ how you know."

"No, I learned it from my pet water balloon, Fluffy," I say sarcastically, giving him a look that says, 'No, duh'.

He glances down uncomfortably. "Er, can you let me go now?"

"Oh, yeah," I say, blushing as I release his white collar from my palms, fading red marks being the only evidence.

He straightens his blazer and glares at me sketchily. "You still have to go talk to Ms. Mor—I mean, Headmistress Morgan."

I roll my eyes and climb back up the stairs, slowly this time, taking every second I need to be comfortable. I start speed-waking as I approach the door and fling the door open with such a force that it hits the wooden table behind it. I calmly walk over just in time—though screaming on the inside—and straighten the original bust of Gillian Gallagher just before it tips over. Zach hurries in behind me and shuts the door in a final way.

"She's not an undercover. She's self-trained."

They all turn to look at me.

"I would still like to know how you know so much," Ms. Morgan tells me.

I lean back against the antique desk I hit and cross my arms. "Even self-trained spies must break into the CIA at some point. Not for a grade. For a sense of self-achievement." I grin, flashing them my real eyes. Not the ones I turn blue by command—an interesting trait of mine—because that's my typical mask, my reddish-brown ones that gleam with pure malice and excitement. "Which is something all self-trained spies must obtain and control. Naturally, educated spies must as well, but it's easier for them. They have a government approved grade to show it."

Ms. Morgan seems bored, almost, at my answer, and says, "Well, Ms. Morgan, I think you'll be staying with Macey and Bex—"

"WHAT?!" Bex and Macey collectively shout.

"—and their other roommate, Liz," Ms. Morgan finishes, ignoring them. "Do you have any clothes back in Richmond?"

That's where I was before they dragged me here, if you couldn't tell.

"No. I have no luggage to own," I explain blankly, turning on my heel out of her office again, hoping I won't have to return. The door should close in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, now.

But it never comes. I stop and turn around to see Zach's hand sandwiched between the door and the frame before he opens it.

"Ms. Morgan, just so you know, your dorm is number 12," he informs me lightly, with a bit of amusement in his eyes.

I flicker my real eyes towards him a second time and he seems surprised, but retreats back into the office.

"Oh, and Zach?" I call after him.

The door squeaks open a second time as he replies, "Yes?"

"Call me Cammie."


	3. Chapter 3: Allowed to be?

**A/N: Sorry I didn't include one in the last, I was excited about the chapter. But here is my Author's Note! Okay, so I cannot thank you all enough for following and favoriting! I get home from church just now and I hop onto the net and see there is 15 e-mails form FanFiction in my inbox! I started freaking out. Special thanks to ****Nicole Goode**** for making me laugh and giving me great ideas!**

Disclaimer: Why would Ally Carter (aka Sarah Leigh Fogleman) post FanFiction of her own stories? (Don't answer that.)

I went straight to my dorm and took the bed that wasn't occupied. The one straight on the left as you walked in that wasn't covered with sheets or anything. It was a bare mattress, but I didn't care. I was so exhausted from trying to keep my cool that I passed out cold on nothing.

* * *

"Cameron! Cameron!" the voice shouted, becoming more irritated. I mumbled something unintelligible before escaping into blissful slumber…that is, until I _shouted_ something _very_ intelligible as I woke up with wet and cold all over me. I shot up like a rocket as the icy cold water splashed over me. The room went to a stock-still at the glare I gave Bex. Macey just glanced up at me with her big, baby-blue eyes and held her Vogue magazine as steady as a surgeon held a scalpel and Liz—as I'd taken to referring to her—wasn't even facing Bex and I, she was gazing at her laptop, not typing, though her fingers were poised to strike.

"Baxter, I'm going to murder you!" I yell furiously, rubbing the fabric creases off my forearm. But I simply walk to the bathroom and find a spare toothbrush before I borrow someone's toothpaste and begin brushing my teeth.

They all look intently at me, waiting for my explosion as I count to sixty then spit out the disgusting goop and rinse my mouth, brush, and hands. Walking back into the room, after drying my hands off on the blue cotton towel, I am met with the expectant stares of three seasoned operatives. At least, compared to me.

"What?" I ask, walking back over to my bed and sitting on the wet mattress. I realize that I have nothing to wear but what I have on, and glance down. It's not too bad, just wet, but Macey seems to read my mind. She goes into her closet and finds a spare uniform and some sensible shoes that would, I admit, go better with the navy plaid skirt and diamond checked vest than my combat boots on bare legs.

"Here," she says, handing them to me. "I'll get you a couple of uniforms, don't worry."

"Thanks," I mutter in reply, marching towards the bathroom, clothes in hand. I emerge a couple seconds later—looking _way_ too girly for my taste—and say, "What now?"

"Don't you have to murder me first?" Bex asks with a sneer. I simply shrug and look around, fidgeting with my skirt.

"I can wait."

Liz, Macey, and a very disgruntled Bex lead me to breakfast (according to Macey, she was really looking forward to a defeat she could hang over me). I ignore the stares of all the other girls as I enter the Dining Hall as the new girl. Grabbing a piece of toast and a glass of orange juice is pretty much all it takes to before some girl with straight black hair and slanted eyes skips up to me and takes the seat across form me.

"Hi," she says, "I'm Tina Walters."

I take another bite of my toast and another sip of my orange juice before replying, "Hi."

"So, Cameron, is it true that—"

I interrupt her abruptly with a, "How do you know my name is Cameron?"

"Oh, um…heard it 'round," she lies smoothly (like she didn't break into the CIA) before continuing, "So, Cameron—"

I interrupt her another time. "It's Cammie."

"Okay, Cammie, is it true that you're a government trained operative who—"

"Nope," I cut her off, taking a second bite of my toast. I don't care what she had to say after that, it isn't true. I'm definitely not government trained.

"So…how'd you get here?" she asked, confused. I guess it's an appropriate assumption that the government had sent me here. How else would I get in?

"Spy," I say, pointing to myself. Macey and Liz grin at me at the same time, and I don't bother questioning them about it. Why should I need to know? By that time, I'm done with my toast and juice and I exit the dining hall before visiting my first class—CoveOps.

They set me in the junior class just like everyone else. Probably because I've had experience. It doesn't matter, because I'm glad I wasn't set behind. I can speak the fourteen languages they can, anyways. Spy.

I'm the first one there, surprised to see none other than Joe Solomon lounging in his teacher's chair when I enter. As I take a seat in the middle desk of the middle row, he looks up at me from over his newspaper.

"Ms. Morgan, you are quite early. I suggest you make a better use of your time and go eat breakfast," he tells me with an indifferent tone. I decide to take advantage of it.

"Well, don't get used to me being early. Anyways, I already have eaten, so I think I'll stay here, if you don't mind."

"I also said don't waste your time."

"I'm far from it. This is a new surrounding. I am analyzing every piece of it, like the tiny electronic bug planted on the edge of your desk, and the language you're reading your newspaper in, which, by the way, is upside down," I tell him in French, him seeming very unsurprised by my switch in tongues.

"Ms. Morgan, I will tell you one thing. You are allowed to be anyone you want in this class. A duchess from Wales, an uber-smart descendant of Albert Einstein, even a normal teenage girl, anyone you want, if it's your cover. The only thing you're not allowed to be, cover or not, is a smart-ass. Do I make myself clear?" he asks sternly, not even looking up from the headline of the, I noticed while he was talking, three-week-old paper.

"Yes sir. You do."

"Good," he tells me as Bex and Macey walk in.

I quickly form a question from the back of my mind. "Are we allowed to be controversial?"

Macey and Bex glance over at me nervously and sympathetically while Joe Solomon simply looks annoyed I have a second response.

"Yes, in fact, you are," he informs me.

"Then, in fact, I do not believe I was being a smart-ass," I reply cockily, standing up. "I believe I was trying to make a point."

"Sit down, Ms. Morgan, because class is about to start," he orders, gesturing to all of the other girls who have filed in behind me. I take a seat respectfully, but zone out until he actually starts teaching, which, in case you'd like to know, is ten minutes after class officially starts.

"Trip to Roseville, ladies. School op. Try to find three grown operatives tailing you. You may or may not be tailed throughout the entire op, but if you are, you need to catch them. Should be simple. Go."

We hurry up to the main level and pile into the bus. I'm pretty lost, but I just copy whatever else everyone is doing and seem to be doing okay.

We arrive in the town square of Roseville in no time and I see a man in a dark coat tailing me. I report it over the comms unit I was given to Mr. Solomon and the man quickly stops. Mr. Solomon tells me the man didn't even see me.

"What is your code name, Ms. Morgan?" Solomon asks me. I have no idea, really, because I've never used comms before. I have a knack for blending in, though, so I make up one right on the spot.

"Chameleon," I say quickly, the word rolling comfortably off of my tongue. It's probably the truest thing I've said since I got here. Bex and a girl named Courtney nail the other two operatives, but something is bothering me. Someone is still tailing me.

"Solomon, I've got a tail. Should I have one? I thought you said three operatives," I say rapidly, coolly as my walk increases a bit, swerving to avoid other pedestrians. The silence quickly becomes heavy and dangerous.

"Chameleon, I'm going to need you to report to the van as quickly as you can. All of you, to the van, this is not a drill!" Solomon shouts in our ears, which, by the way, _really_ hurts. But that's not what I'm focused on. Me, being occasionally stupid, took an alleyway shortcut to van.

The man in grey got closer and closer as I headed through the passage, but I couldn't start running and have him think everything's fine. Oh, and the fact that he had a _gun_.

Finally, at the edge, away from all city eyes that could be watching, I start to dash off towards the van. It's in plain sight, but that also means they can see whatever I do.

I'm not afraid to kill.

The man tackles me from behind as I approach the mouth of the alley. I roll over and pin him to the ground, his gun rolling a foot or so to the left where he can't reach it.

"What are you doing here? Why are you following me?" I ask loudly, holding him steady. He remains quiet, but his hat falls off and I see he has short, black hair and blue eyes. I don't even bother wondering who he is. He could be working for the Circle! Not that I should know about the Circle…at all.

"What are you doing here?" I repeat. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mr. Solomon getting out of the van.

"Don't move!" I shout sideways, my eyes never leaving the subject. But in that split second that I have a bit of my focus diverted from him, he is able to reverse the situation where he is pinning me. But I reach for the gun before he can force my arms down and shoot him in the head with no regrets, no emotion, no looking back.

I take the dead man's hand and rub his skin all over the gun where I held it to erase fingerprints, then leave him there before running over to the van and getting in.

When I close the van's door, all the girls I walk near cringe away from me, their mouths open in shock. Mr. Solomon stares at me with a deathly sort of understanding, but Zach and his two friends—Grant and Jonas, I believe—look sort of…how do I put this…surprised yet angered. Was it someone they knew?

"Fine," I say, "I'll walk if you want to sit here for an hour staring at me for no good reason.

"No reason?!" Bex shrieks, jumping up from her chair. "Newsflash, sweetheart, you just killed someone!"

"I didn't say _no_ reason," I snap back, "I said no _good_ reason."

**A/N: Okay, so I hate to kind of leave you here, but if I go any farther, I will just lead you off into another kind of scene. Pretty long chapter, huh? Intense, I know, but this is the base plot, I'm telling you all right now. I thought that was TOTALLY Mr. Solomon, I couldn't resist. ****REVIEW!**


	4. Chapter 4: I know your mother

**A/N: I'm so glad you all reviewed. And liked it! You all make me laugh. Some of you have the review function turned off, so I'll answer your questions/reply at the end of this chapter. Now, if you're ready…Chapter 4! (P.S. for all you lot reading my story Keep Her Safe, I'm probably not going to update for at least two or three days…sorry.)**

**Disclaimer: Refer to chapters 1 & 3**

"Ms. Morgan, please stay seated. I'm sure Mr. Goode will be here in a minute," Solomon tells me, glaring at me over the paper he was reading this morning. It was still upside down and in French.

"Why are you reading it upside down?" I ask, rather annoyed that he is, for some reason.

He doesn't answer because Zach enters the room first.

"Ah, Mr. Goode, care to sit down?" I say regally, pretending that I didn't just kill someone. He looks at me strangely, acting stiff and formal as he stands there.

"The whole school will know about it in mere hours once dinner starts. What are we going to do about this, Joe? The CIA, FBI, and more could be dragged into this by simple school gossip."

I choke on my own tongue at his mention of Solomon by his first name. I stand up even though Solomon objects and face Zach.

"Listen here, Blackthorne Boy, I am not scared of the CIA, FBI, NSA, anything. You shouldn't be either. They won't be dragged into this because you," I start, looking at Solomon, "are a very mysterious, dangerous, and willfully respected teacher, and you," I say pointedly, switching my gaze to Zach, "are a very mysterious, dangerous, and willfully respected student. If you can tell everyone from CoveOps not to spread it around, they won't. They haven't gone into the school's hallways yet, they are sitting outside in the hallway besides this room! You are spies, for goodness sake! If someone says one misleading word, you can penalize them because you'll know about it," I tell them, semi-reasonably.

"Cammie, this isn't all about them. You are a very important person here as well. You _killed_ someone. Stole their life. You—"

"I know what I did!" I shout harshly. I take a deep breath before continuing, "I don't regret it either. You know him as well as I do, Solomon. But you?" I look at Zach. "You know everything about that person. He _was_ part of the Circle, right?"

"How do you know about the Circle?" Zach asks, bewildered.

I give him a rueful grimace, showing him my eyes again. "I know your mother."

* * *

I stand outside the CoveOps classroom as Zach and Solomon have their 'private' discussion. Like I can't hear them. Though I will say it's rather uncomfortable having the entire junior CoveOps class staring at me throughout it.

"How does she know Catherine? How? Joe, this girl is dangerous. We cannot house her here. She is a _rogue agent_," Zach emphasizes. I can imagine him putting him hands on Solomon's desk, leaning forward. It's true, though.

"She is also an asset," Solomon explains. "Dangerous or not, she is useful. And it's not like we don't allow controversy around here. _You_ know your mother. But you are nothing like her, you say? She is a very important person. Ms. Morgan is a very stubborn, important person. This will not be an easy thing, but I think she'll crack eventually."

They seem to give up after that, slamming the door right into my back as they exit. They order, yes, _order_ all of the students not to leak a word about today, and they all readily agree, probably expecting it.

I walk up to Zach after Solomon and the students have left, whispering into his ear,

"I am a very sturbborn, important rogue agent. Remember that."

And I leave without another word.

**A/N: I know this isn't as long as Chp. 3, but give me some credit here, I uploaded two chapters in one day! REVIEW, as always, and here are your answers:  
**

**BunnySwag101****- Thanks! I plan for it to be, eventually.**

**GallagherGirlXOX****- Thanks! I don't know where it came from, but…and I will. I plan to update tomorrow as well.**

**thefallenspy****- I'm glad! Thanks!**

**ID4bby****- thanks for letting me know about my error. I believe I changed it, but then didn't save it. Stupid me. Thank you for that! I'm glad you liked it, but I plan on changing it a bit soon because I think it's rushed.**

**Uknowiloveu****- Thanks! Me, too. I think I'm updating tomorrow.**

**And again, thanks to ****NicoleGoode**** for keeping up with me constantly. I have to say that all of you made me laugh as soon as I read them. You are hilariously awesome!**

**-Cam (for all of you who don't know, that's my real name: Cameron.)**


	5. Chapter 5: Stopped altogether

**A/N: Hi. This is real short, and doesn't make too much sense, but I swear I've got more things coming and it will all even out. PLEASE REVIEW!**

I skip dinner; I'm not hungry. My dorm is not an option, Bex and Liz are be there. The library isn't either because Macey is studying. So I can only wander around in hopes of finding a secluded quiet place.

I wander the halls aimlessly until I reach the Gallagher Family Tree tapestry. But something is off. As I look closer, I can see that the tapestry is curved back a bit from the draft. But…draft? There's just wall behind it, right? I pull aside the tapestry to see a dark, looming hole leading somewhere. So I take a step into it.

Well, I have to repeat the fact that it was rather dark, because it seriously is pitch-black. I mean I-can't-see-my-own-hand-in-front-of-my-face-black. I keep my hand on the wall as I walk down the passage, shuffling my feet in front of me before each step to check for stairs or traps. I turn around to see the the passage entrance, but I'm only met with the same dank dark I face once righted again. It reminds me of the night dad died.

_Shut up_, I order myself. _Don't get distracted_. I continue along without interruption for about five more minutes before I take another step and move my hand forward into…nothing. I wave my fingers back and forth, and it seems to be something of a doorway. I look into it-that is, if it's a doorway at all—and see a small glimmer of light up ahead. I head towards it in the same fashion: shuffle/sweep, step with left floor, lean forward, shuffle/sweep, step with right foot, move hand, repeat. Entering the room, the bright light blinds me momentarily before I can look around.

Zach.

He's sleeping under a bunch of blankets, facing towards the back of a cushioned bench in the circular room. He looks like dad when he died, sitting there as still as anything. Tears flow down my face unconsciously, my hand reaching towards my face before they even do to brush them away, but they won't stop cascading past my cheeks, down my chin, and dissolving into my shirt. I kneel down to him and just sit there silently, trying to hold myself together as best as I can. I've kept strong all day, why can't I stay that way now? I hold my head in my hands and leave myself in peace.

_The light flying on._

_A horn sounding._

_The door crumpling._

_I scream._

_Sirens._

_Sheets._

_Reports._

_Funeral._

_Spy._

"Hey," a voice murmurs softly. My head snaps up to see two vibrant green orbs gazing into my eyes—which are onyx, now, matching my feelings.

Correction, he looks _exactly_ like dad when he died.

"Hey," Zach repeats, a bit more concerned. "Cammie. What's going on? Are you okay?"

I shake my head. Not in answer, but to show as of I-don't-want-to-talk-about-this.

"I'm fine, just leave me alone," I whisper harshly, running back out of the room down the dark, dark hallway, turning right to keep going down into the unknown.

Because when I thought I couldn't care any less, I stopped caring altogether.


	6. Chapter 6: I am the daughter

"Cammie!" Zach calls. "Cammie!"

I sit there, unmoving at the voice. I stay still, curled up in a ball, unmoving. Zach hurries down the hall and is moving quite fast when he reaches me. I am sitting absolutely still and not breathing, but when he passes me he stops and turns towards where I am hiding.

He kneels down in front of me. "Gallagher Girl."

I don't say anything, but pay attention to him in his pajamas. _Gallagher Girl? Where did that come from?_

"Come on, Cammie. Let's go back to the room. So we can just...figure things out," Zach suggests reasonably. "I'm not going to let you stay out here crying in the cold and the dark by yourself."

Damn him and his logic.

I get up and follow straight for the cupola-like room. Maybe that's what it is. One of the mansion's cupolas. I take a seat on the blanketed floor and Zach plops down next to me. The cushioned bench seems to be the only furniture item in the room besides a cardboard box in the corner which probably holds clothing or valuables. Maybe both, since I can't find a closet area. Everything is covered in blankets except for the cardboard box, and it doesn't seem strange, oddly. It seems perfect.

"So, yeah, this is where I live," Zach murmurs hoarsely. "Joe decided to move me to another room. I don't know why, but he did. I miss having people here with me sometimes, but other times I don't feel lonely or sad at all about it. I certainly don't miss the typing of Jonas' laptop, or Grant working out all the time. But their incessant antics had become home and...now I'm here."

I look over at him with puffy eyes that are still probably dark. Zach turns his head up to me, looking at me straight in the eye. It sends shivers down my spine and goosebumps all over my arms, but I don't care.

"My dad died seven years ago," he tells me, "on this night, seven years ago. Apparently he was driving just fine when he got hit by some idiot who was drunk. The other guy even had his daughter in the car. Can you believe it?"

My breath hitches at this. No, no, no, not now.

"The daughter lived, I think. But my father and the other man died instantly."

Dad had been drunk, but I still loved him all the same. I...no.

"Zach," I say quietly. "I am the daughter."

**A/N: I'm sorry I haven't updated in a couple of days. The first day I was busy, and I just couldn't, and the second day I actually wrote this chapter, but then my computer closed all my documents for some reason. I'm sorry to leave you here, too, but it has to be broken off here as part of the story. Just hang on. Also, some of you have PM'd me asking why I use the American spelling even though I'm from England, and I have to tell you it's because more people use the American spelling. I just find it easier to write in.**

**REVIEW!**


	7. Chapter 7: Shot of tequila, would ya?

**A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't updated. I had the chapter, but my connection was down and then something happened to my account that it wouldn't let me access my chapter editing page. PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I'll update tomorrow.**

"Um..." Zach says. "I...uh...what?"

_Idiot, idiot, idiot!_ I shout to myself. _Why on earth would you tell him that?_

"The girl who survived—I think that was my dad. I...I don't know."

"_Come on, Cammie. Let's go," my dad said, opening the car door very sloppily. "Once we stop by the bar, we can get ice cream."_

_I hopped into my seat and buckled up before jumping up and down in excitement. We were going for ice cream! We almost always just went to that...place. It smelled like smoke and beer and whenever we went home my dad would talk funny and act weird. But I would go in there for ice cream. Maybe it would help me run faster when he tried to capture me afterwards. If he did...he would hit me._

_We sped off and quickly turned the corner onto the bar's street. I unbuckled myself and leaped out after my dad's tall figure. He opened the door for me and I skipped in through the glass doors where there was lots of talking and yelling and the occasional tinkling of broken glass._

_My dad sat at the bar and said, "Shot of tequila, would ya?"_

_I was used to this, so I took my place at the back of the room and faded into the background. Though a third-grader in a bright purple t-shirt at a bar at midnight shouldn't blend in, I did. It seemed like hours...days, even until my dad turned around and walked back over toward me._

"_C'mon__, Cammie. Le's go git ize crem," my dad muttered, slurred. I warily got into the back seat of the car again, buckling myself up tightly. We drove for two minutes, a few stores away from the ice cream shop that was closed anyways when we swerved towards the left. _

_Bright lights appeared on my side of my the window, and I screamed just before a the door on the other side crumpled inward. My stomach nearly tumbled out of my mouth when we stopped all of a sudden and white bags opened into stationary balloons. My dad's neck was cut on the side and he grew limp as we spun._

_I stayed still, panicking as the deafening siren came closer and closer. A banging sounded from the side of the car that was still perfectly shaped and soon the door was wrenched open. Bright lights of a different kind, far above and winking, shone with the silhouette of an official looking man standing there with a bar mustache looked at me pitifully. The official man lifted me onto a bed that moved and six other people in white lifted me into the truck with the winking lights. They ordered me to stay still as they gave me a checkup like the doctor would, my center of gravity tilting back and forth as the truck moved fast. _

_We finally got to a building, big and tall with lots of red letters written on the side of entrances. The same people in white carried me into a room with the letters 'ER' written on it. A doctor came in and gave me a second checkup, asking me how I was feeling. I said I felt fine, but they wouldn't let me go._

_Finally my Aunt Abby came and took me home, telling me I was going to stay there for a while. Well, I did until I ran away and became a spy._

"Cammie. Cammie! Are you okay? Snap out of it!" Zach yells desperately, shaking my shoulders. I swipe his hands away at this and start hyperventilating, sincerely trying to get myself under control.

What is wrong with me?

Tears stream down my face even though I'm not crying and I wipe then away hastily, but they keep coming in torrents of salty drops. Zach envelopes me in his arms, pulling me closer towards him.

"Shh, Cammie. It's okay, you're safe. Nothing is going to happen," Zach whispers into my ear.

And for some reason, I don't let go. I don't tear away. I let myself sink into his chest, crying my heart out. He smells like lemon soap, and that reminds me of my dad. He is like my dad's doppelganger, and it freaks me out to no end. His green eyes are the precise same shade, and his hair is only one tone lighter. I hugged him close as my throat continued to burn with the aching pain.

The next thing I knew I open my eyes to a streaming path of light from the tiny window in the cupola shaped room. My head rests on Zach's chest and I feel tear-goo in my eyes. My nose is clogged and I, in general, feel sick. My internal clock tells me that it's Saturday, 7:07 a.m.

I bolt up, surprisingly not waking Zach, and dash out of the room and down the passage. After slipping out of the tapestry, I jog past everything without disturbance; everyone wants to sleep in. The door of my dorm opens silently, thanks to Liz's No Grip, No Slip lubricant she'd developed for Advanced Chemistry extra credit, and I run into the bathroom.

I wipe my face down for pure cleanliness and then rub my eyes until all the salty flakes came off before wiping my face again to get rid of them. I repeatedly splash my face with icy water to get rid of my puffy eyes before I comb my hair and change into a pair of clothes I left in here. I slide down the wall behind me and hold my head in my hands.

Something is wrong. I haven't cried in years, not even when dad died. I haven't done anything to show weakness and then _Zach_, the hotshot, saunters into my life on _one night_. _One night_ out of 365, he had to find me and comfort me. What the hell am I doing? I can probably just act like it didn't happen and get away with it, but...

It still happened. Maybe no one but Zach and I would know about it, but it still did. Unless he happened to drink some memory tea on accident, he would _definitely_ remember this. Who knows how long he stayed up?

I'll just ignore it. Just leave it alone.

I walk back into the main room where Bex, Liz, and Macey still sleep soundly and I sit up on my bed. Of course, they sleep soundly until the door falls down—literally—to reveal a sleepy, poised to knock, Zach.

**A/N: So what do you think? Eh? I was just thinking today that I met an American on holiday here and she was really funny, so I asked her where she was staying (remember that I'm also a girl, I just wanted to give her a friend to show her around) and she wrote down her hotel and room number for me. SO I told her, "I'll knock you up, eh?" She looked ****_so_**** offended that I was just lost until I remembered the saying 'knock you up' means to get pregnant in America, but in London, at least, it means 'I'll give you a call'. I told her this and I started laughing so hard! Sorry, that was random. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 8: Pineapple

**A/N: Hey, so I promised I would update today...here I am! Hah, you know you love me. Okay, so some of you have asked if I was really British because the time difference means that I'm updating at, like, four in the morning in England and such:**** I have a really strange around-the-clock-schedule. If I have an idea, I'll write it down and post it. My ideas may come during lunch or at four in the morning. PleAsE rEvIeW, as always...you may not know it but it really drives me to write. So...just press the button.**

"Bloody hell, why'd you do that?" Bex shouts from her bunk next to the bathroom. Zach looks just as confused as Liz and Macey, who are well-tempered enough not to outright scream.

"Bex!" I chastise. "You're going to wake everyone up!"

She gives me a look as if to say, 'Really. Because the door was so bloody quiet'.

I get up and walk through our doorway after telling Liz, "Might want to check your Chemistry project."

Zach grabs my hand and rushes me down the cold stone hallways to his room for the second time, turning on the light in his cupola before turning to me with a furious look in his eye. I hold my hands up in mock surrender before my facade falters and I drop the act.

"Do you know how scared I was when I woke up?" Zach demands in an enraged whisper. "You fell asleep right next to me and I wake up with no one there! You could have been captured, you could have been hurt—" He cuts himself off as he calms down a bit, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Cammie," he begins again, gently. "If you disappear, I don't know what I'll do."

I jerk back from Zach's grip on my wrists. What the hell is he doing? We barely know each other!

"Look," I tell him with a low voice. "I don't know why what happened last night happened, okay? I'm sorry that I worried you, but I barely know you! Just pretend like nothing happened, okay?"

When I finish, Zach looks hurt, even sad. But I can only pull away and act like the machine everyone met me as.

**(A/N: I know that Cammie's been OOC...at least, the original character I wrote. But I did that on purpose, so...just be prepared for things to turn back to how I had them. For a while, at least.)**

I get back to my room and ignore the questioning stares of Macey, Bex, and Liz while I put on a fresh uniform and strut down to the dining hall, where several freshman and juniors have gathered. I guess the sophomores are on a CoveOps trip with the assistant to Solomon. I don't know her name, but she's good. **(I accidentally typed goode. Damn, this story's getting to me.)** The juniors stare at me, trying to guess the door incident this morning, I suppose, but I ignore them and pile some fruit on my plate for breakfast. As I sit down, about to take my first bite of pineapple, I hear, "Cameron Morgan."

I turn to see none other than Joe Solomon.

"Come with me," he says. I jump up after him, carrying my fruit with me as I trail his footsteps. We ride the elevator down to Sublevel Two, where the junior CoveOps classroom is, and I sit in a desk by the front with my pineapple. I pierce one with a tine of my fork as Solomon says, "Ms. Morgan, the Headmistress has decided that since you are a self-trained spy, a espionage agent with experience before any education, we should know a bit about you."

"Okay," I say through a bite of pineapple, acting cool. "What would you lot like to know?"

Solomon gets up and sits in front of me in another chair and pulls out a yellow paper pad.

"Mother?" he asks, pencil poised.

I shrug, stabbing another fruit chunk viciously. "Don't know."

"Okay. Siblings?" Solomon questions, still writing down what I said.

I give him a look that clearly says, 'Are you stupid?' "_Joe_, if I had a sibling, do you think I would be here at all?"

"I don't know. Some people are like that. Anyways, have you had official CIA contact?"

"Does hacking into the database count?" I ask, trying to avoid the question.

He shakes his head. "Well, if you haven't, that pretty much cuts off the rest of the questions. Oh, I skipped this one: Father?"

"Matthew Morgan." But it's not me who answers. It's a woman with beautiful curves and coffee colored ringlets of hair. Her hip cocked, she glares at us both with a ferocious power.

I whisper in disbelief, "Aunt Abby?"

**A/N: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA, I'm evil. Oh well. This is a very important part of the story line, believe me. BUT PLEASE REVIEW! QUICKLY!**


	9. Chapter 9: I'm not afraid to hurt you

"That's me, squirt," Abby drawls, ruffling my hair. "I'm Joe's assistant."

Solomon stands there, his expression bored, but his eyes betray his shock and amazement.

"Cameron, do you know who Matthew Morgan _was_?" Solomon asks, his hands gripping the edges of the desk. Abby shifts uncomfortably, something I've never seen her as—uncomfortable.

That's how I know she's been hiding something.

"My father," I tell him coldly, angry that he reminded me of Zach.

Solomon and Abby both look at me gravely, Solomon standing up in the process. I look at them, expecting me to give me an answer. But Solomon just walks over to a walkie-talkie and says, "Headmistress Morgan and Zachary Goode: Sublevel Two, _now_."

Yeah, needless to say, it was pretty awkward to sit there in between your CoveOps teacher and your Aunt in silence for about three minutes until Zach—my god, they're going to torture me—and the Headmistress walk through the door.

"You needed me?" Zach asks with a cocky tone, smirk on his face, of course. I roll my eyes while Headmistress Morgan, Abby, and Solomon look at us with amused expressions.

"Yeah, right," I answer angrily. "Just leave me alone, jackass."

Zach's mouth forms an 'o', like he's whistling before he says, "Name calling? Are we low enough for that? Really, Gallagher Girl, I thought you would have tried something else. Something...braver? Or are you weak enough to continue with your mediocrity?"

Oh, hell no.

I grab him by the collar and shove him against the wall, my hand fingering the knife inside of my blazer. "Don't you dare say that to me again, or so help me I will kill you. And you will die a slow, torturous death. On second thought, maybe I'll keep you alive and in pain."

"What is your problem?" Zach chokes. Abby, Solomon, and Ms. Morgan seem stunned by my actions.

I hold him up and shove him back against the wall, hard. "What is _my_ problem? Don't make me answer that. I told you before, just pretend like nothing happened. What you saw? You don't know me one bit. If you did, you might even be scared."

I drop him to the floor, his feet keeping him upright, but only barely. I bring out my knife form the inside of my uniform, and throw it at him.

**(I can't stop here, I'm not that cruel :D)**

It grazes his hair, a couple of tiny pieces of locks falling to the floor, and lands right next to his head.

"Cameron!" Abby shouts, making her way towards Zach, who jumps as it thuds against the wall, blade lodged firmly in the wood behind the frosted glass.

I laugh harshly, striding forward with my head held high in defiance. I yank the knife out of the wall and twirl it around on my fingertips.

"Scared, Blackthorne Boy?" I ask mockingly, a frosty air in my tone.

Abby glares at me and Solomon stands there with a disapproving look on his face. Headmistress Morgan looks shocked, but not alarmed.

"I'm not the same girl, Abby," I inform her, voice low. "I'm not the innocent little kid you left seven years ago! Matthew is _dead_, Abby, and you don't even know how! You weren't there, and look at me now. This proves what I said, Abby. You can't do it. Hell, Zach knows more about me than you do. And that was an accident. You aren't an accident. You are my blood, and I'm not afraid to hurt you.

"Any of you," I add. I spin around on my heels, strutting out of the room.

Not even flinching when the knife I throw behind me lands between Zach and Abby.

**A/N: Okay, I got so many reviews that I left my laptop for ten minutes, come back and look at my e-mail. "Holy sh—" There were 10 reviews in my inbox! Keep it up, people, I gave you another chappie! Two chapters in one day! Thx for reviewing, and also:**

**BunnySwag101- I know it was sad, but don't worry. I have **_**plans**_**. *raises eyebrows and laughs maniacally***


	10. Chapter 10: I am the daughter, Part II

I furiously punch the elevator button as the footsteps behind me pick up pace.

"Cammie," Zach says, pulling up beside me quietly. I shake my head adamantly, pushing the button again as if to make the lift come faster.

"Cameron!" Abby shouts angrily. I sigh and turn around, crossing my arms. I've gone mute. Solomon and the Headmistress are coming up the hall now with bewildered expressions. Come on!

Zach begins again, stepping a bit closer toward me across the grimy stone. "Cammie, don't be like this." He looked kind of desperate, very un-Zach-like, but I shake him off like a cold wind.

"Oh, so you liked my little nice girl cover I had for you yesterday? That's inconvenient because that's not me," I spit. "You were there, I told Abby I'm not the innocent little kid anymore."

"Cameron Morgan, that was..." Headmistress Morgan trails off, "amazing."

"What?" Zach, Solomon, Abby, and I simultaneously demand. Headmistress Morgan beams at me with a touch of pride and I blink before turning away, weakly pressing the elevator button again. I feel Zach start to approach me further, and swat away his hand.

"Who was Matthew Morgan?" I ask Solomon quietly. He looks at me solidly, like I'm a piece of wall he can't jump over, a code he can't crack. His look is deadly.

He bows his head before beginning solemnly; dramatically, "Matt was a top CIA spy."

My gut jumps within me and starts to heave as a wave of nausea creeps over my body, my head suddenly achy, and my neck sweaty.

"Matt married Rachel," Solomon says, nodding his head toward the Headmistress, "and they had a daughter. Rachel had to leave on a mission, and that was when Matt made his move. He jumped from California to Virginia with the girl, unbeknownst **(big girl word!) **to Rachel. His daughter was a bright young girl with no suspicions to his career, but that all changed when Matt was killed in a car crash."

The way Abby looks at me with regret and sorrow, a sincere apology, is something I know I won't forget. Solomon cocks an eyebrow and shows no emotion. But Zach pales as he realizes what I am going to say.

And for the second time in twenty-four hours, I force myself to announce, "I am the daughter."

**A/N: Real, real short, I know, but I had to break it off here. Yeah, I'm that horrible. Don't worry, I'll post in a little while, but REVIEW first so I know what you want.**


	11. Chapter 11: What are the odds of that?

**A/N: I made a HUGE mistake last chapter! I called the elevator a lift, which is what we call it in London. I've never really been to much else of Britain, so I'm sorry if this isn't what it's called in other cities, but I call it a lift. So, yeah...that's what it means. But I won't fix it :D REVIEW!**

The elevator door finally opens and I hop inside, closing the door panel behind me. When I reach the ground level I storm across the corridor and up to the dorms. Swiftly, I change out of my uniform into my tight black skinny jeans, my dark grey tank top, my combat boots, and my black leather jacket before running back down the stairs with a couple of guns and knives concealed. The girls—especially newbies—part like the Red Sea at the sight of me. I imagine I look pretty scared and furious right now, but that doesn't stop Zach from chasing after me.

"Cammie!" he yells as I exit the wide oak doors that lead to the school grounds. Sprinkles of water patter my jacket as I turn around to face him. The air is turning foggy and everything seems misty.

"What, Zach? Is this important? I really need to get out of here. Away from...my _mother_, away from Abby, away from Joe," I list, glaring at him. He looks at me with a kind of despair, and I feel a wave of guilt flow in waves over me, choking on my last words.

"Even away from you," I say softly, fire sparking at the edges of my eyes. What is going on? I don't usually have separation issues. Ever. Then again, I don't run away to distance myself, I run away because I get bored. But this time, I'm not bored.

And I hate him for it.

"You want to get away from me?" he asks, disbelievingly. "Because I reached out to you, because I offered help, because I wanted to get to know you?"

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger. "I didn't say I wanted to."

Zach's expression softens up a bit at this. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. Did I mention I hate him? He's turning me into...Matthew's daughter. Not Cameron Morgan, the self-trained spy. Not even Cammie Morgan: spy. Just Cammie, top CIA spy's innocent little daughter. I'm turning into my old self.

I hate him for making me like him, I hate him for being there when I needed someone, I hate him for just...finding me on the one night I thought I wanted to be alone.

I hate him.

"I'm leaving," I state simply, tucking my hands into my jacket as I look around the vast, mountainous grounds covered in manicured grass and a simple dirt pathway up toward the mansion's entrance. As I look at Zach, with his burning emerald eyes, a delicate shade of spring.

"So this is goodbye?" Zach asks mockingly, smirking as I walk away, as if he knew I would.

I turn back to him and grin. "Now Blackthorne Boy, what are the odds of that?"

* * *

Woods. I love the woods. They are beautiful and green, like Zach's eyes—SHUT _UP_, CAMMIE—and they are peaceful and quiet **(unlike Zach)**.

The birds sing and the twigs snap under my feet, the leaves crackle with a satisfying crunch and the leaves are just turning brown. I zip up my jacket partially as it starts to get cooler, wanting to keep warm, but also not wanting to restrict my weapons access. I saunter around for a while, trying to bide time as I try making plans about running away. Where should I go? What will I do once I get there? Should I test out a few missions? Or maybe come back to Gallagher after a couple of weeks?

Dusk begins to descend quickly, and I find a cave as soon as possible. It takes me a good half-hour, groveling in the dark for the last few minutes because I didn't want to find shelter too early. I shake out a glow stick from my jacket and light it up before gathering some twigs for a fire. I come back and light it quickly, placing it so that outsiders cannot see it, but it keeps me toasty warm.

Rapidly, I fall asleep, but something wakes me up at—let's see—six o'clock in the morning. I don't know what (never a good thing for a spy), but I can tell something is wrong. I crawl cautiously to the mouth of the cavern, and let out a sigh of relief as I see it's just a couple of campers looking to, well, set up camp. I sneak back into my cave, but not soon enough, because they see me and walk over. I freeze, thinking up excuses of why the bloody hell a girl like me is doing in the middle of the woods. _I got lost, it's a rite-of-passage thing, I like to camp alone; gives me time to think..._

But nothing could prepare me for who met my gaze as they bent down.

Especially for a pair of startling green eyes.

**A/N: OOOOOH! Let me give you a hint; It's not Zach. Can you guess? Anyone? PLZ PLZ PLZ review because I got about twenty more followers, but only five or six reviews. Not that I'm ungrateful, I just really love them. Sorry if this sucks, it's, like, two in the morning. I think. My vision's going blurry. Anyways, REVIEW!**


	12. Chapter 12: Waterbottle

**A/N: Okay, so if you guys are taking time to read this and not skipping ahead, the wait is over. I had lots of guesses, mainly Cammie's dad (he's dead, guys), Catherine, Josh (his eyes are blue), or Zach's dad. But none of them were right! I'm cruel, and you obviously can't guess the name since it's a fictional character (developed by me!), but I was kind of hoping you could've guessed the relationship. Ah, well. Here it is. REVIEW! **

"Ethan? Miakota? Raina? What are you _doing_ here?" I ask, bewildered. My brother and twin sisters stand before me as I rise from crouch. **(A/N: I know actual twins named Miakota and Raina!)**

They look between each other, three sets of piercing emerald eyes meeting with one glance. I unzip my jacket subtly and reach inside for a stiletto blade, unsure whether they are illusions or not.

"Um, yeah," Ethan answers, hanging his left hand on the back of neck, eyes straying towards the twins in a nervous way. "We were—"

"Were what?" I hiss, stepping forward. "You died in a car crash eight years ago."

Miakota and Raina look so much older at twenty-one. Their cheekbones are further defined, their frames skinnier, but still curvy. Their hair is a chocolate brown, still, a trait I suppose they adapted from...Headmistress Morgan, but it is smooth and tumbling over their shoulders, instead of dressed in a short bob they had it in. Ethan looks the same except for his hair is cut short and his muscles are more developed at twenty-three. He still has the sharp nose and chin, the same height of six feet. The twins are about half a foot shorter than him, so they are all still taller than me, though the twins just by a few inches.

"Uh...well, you see, we are fine and that was just a mistake," Ethan lies horribly. Immediately, I whip out the tiny knife and guard myself. These must be impostors. I saw the car, I went to their funerals! But then it all clicks. They both went to boarding schools, they both came back for breaks with 'reports' to write and exercises to do.

They knew.

"You know who Matthew Morgan _really_ is, don't you? You knew the whole time and didn't think to tell me? After he died, you could've come and taken me to Gallagher, or you could have trained me! Matt wasn't so gloriously reputable those last few years. He was a _drunkard_. An old sot, whatever you want to call it. You left me to fend for myself at nine! I was nine years old. What happened, you went on a mission and went MIA?" I ask suspiciously. They nod simultaneously, and it kind of freaks me out, but I don't carry on. I retreat into my cave and toss out the charred, smoldering twigs left from last night's fire before gathering a couple more limbs and lighting a match onto them. Ethan, Miakota, and Raina stand there uncertainly, having one of those 'I'm-older-so-I'm-going-to-be-annoying-and-have-a- talk-with-my-eyes-privately' conversations with one another.

"Well, get in here!" I yell, exasperated. They shuffle in quickly and I say, "I can't believe you would leave me all to myself! You just decided that, what, you were going to abandon your little sister to Abby? Just forget about me for a second, what about Abby? The only person who would have been left is Abby. She is a _spy_, a single spy for a reason. She doesn't want kids to take care of! And even though I know Abby loves me, what would I have done had she decided to leave me alone, too?"

"We didn't want to expose you to this," Miakota explains quietly. "We wanted you to have that choice."

I throw my hands up in the air. "And which do you think I would have selected by 'choice' had I been offered?"

"Then what are you doing here?" Raina demands, leaning forward toward the fire. "You expect us to act normal when we find you alone in the woods aiming a knife at us? And how do you know about dad? Gallagher?"

I groan. "So, when you 'left', dad started to drink a lot and go out to bars all the time. In a year, he died and Abby took care of me a while before I found some files in her study," I say, adding, "Which I hacked into, by the way."

Raina and Ethan roll their eyes as I continue. "So I trained myself to be a spy and long story short, I found Zach and Gallagher and then I ran away. I found mom," I say softly.

Ethan narrows his eyes as Miakota returns with a couple of stolen eggs for breakfast, supplying a sheet of metal out of nowhere to cook them on. He drums his fingers on his thigh, kind of almost glaring at me for a minute.

"So, are you and this..._Zeke_ boyfriend and girlfriend?" he asks. I spew out the water I had sipped out of a waterbottle Raina had given me a few seconds ago all over the fire, nearly extinguishing it. I cough and choke, trying to breathe properly before exclaiming, "WHAT!? No, no, no, of course not. My god, you have a sick, _sick_ mind." I cough some more and take a sip of water.

"Sick and overprotective," Miakota mutters, sounding as if she speaks from experience. I laugh quietly at that and twist the cap back onto the bottle. We're starting to get back into motion.

"And it's Zach," I add softly, tracing circles on the damp rock. We all sit there in silence as they rain starts pouring down outside. "But don't think this is over," I warn, frowning at them and glaring. They gulp, knowing how scary I can be when full force while I eat my egg before falling asleep to the pattering of rain, waking up too soon to someone shaking me and saying, "There's someone who'd like to see you."

**A/N: So, in short, this chapter sucks. Yeah, well, review anyways because I've got to use the toilet. Thank you!**


	13. Chapter 13: I was very worried

**A/N: Okay, so if you didn't notice, my last chapter SUCKED! Mother of lord, I read through it again and immediately had to edit it. So...before you do anything, read the last chapter again! I changed the plot a bit, thanks to ****MigiLove2143****. You were spot on, Migi! Anyways, one of the main reasons—and excuses—for why my last chapter was so horrible is that I promised I would update, but I really didn't want to, however I also didn't want to disappoint you. So, I concocted the worst piece of text I've ever seen. Woo-hoo! [insert sarcasm here] Also, ****beatrueheart****, one of my sarcastic (and loved) reviewers has the most acerbic kind of wit I've ever encountered. My bladder and reviews are not connected by any means, in reply. That is a really long A/N. Oh, well. Review!**

"Who?" I ask, frowning as I comb my fingers through my frizzy hair (stupid rain) and brush off my jacket. Ethan looks somewhat distressed while I continue to freshen myself up. I glance at him expectantly while I pop in a strip of 'Toothpaste for the Go' (courteously invented by Liz).

"Um...this guy...I think his name was Zeke," he says coolly, clenching his fists together. I put one hand on his shoulder and roll my eyes.

"No need to be so overprotective, Mr. Disappearance. I'm seventeen," I whisper conspiratorially. I clap Ethan on the back before I crawl out of the mouth of the cavern and stand up.

Zach's smirk kind of makes my day...not that I ever said that. His eyes matching the three people hidden in the cavern, I glare at him with an indifference.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demand angrily, resting my palm on my hip. He grins and gives me a hug before I can stop him. However, I do push him away with a disdainful expression on my face, and he folds his arms.

"That sounds a lot more like the Gallagher Girl I know," Zach states with a smug look to him. I punch him in the arm—hard—as a reflex reaction to his stupidity, but he doesn't even seem fazed. I tap my foot on the leafy floor with impatience.

"You didn't exactly answer my question. And how did you find me?" I ask, stepping forward towards him. He starts pacing while I hear a small voice ordering, "Say nothing!"

I grab him by the shoulder and pin him up against a tree, holding his hair back. He winces, caught by surprise, but says, "Hey!" when I yank out a comms unit in his ear and smash it with my heel.

"Now can you tell me? A spy is only as good as their back-up," I remind him, quoting one of Mr. Solomon's lessons. Zach looks around nervously and fiddles with his fingers in delay.

"Well, for one, it's not my doing," he tells me, leaning against the tree I had him up against casually, kind of messing with the oak bark.

"Not your doing?" I question with disbelief. "Are you telling me that you were forced against your will to hike into the woods to find me in a cave? I don't think so! You know just as well as I do that you could have run away or point-blank refused. So what's the real reason you're here?"

"Look, you think I wasn't scared out of my mind that you spontaneously decided to run away into the wild? With no food, water, or supplies, either. You are entirely just...unpredictable!" he concludes.

I open my jacket lining in response, displaying the array of energy bars, knives, and iodine droplets for purifying water. "I am not crazy, okay? I knew what I was doing. I'm not supposed to be predictable, I'm a spy!" I yell back. "And you're not even concerned that the people in that cavern might be citizens?"

He turns pale, but then reforms. "You wouldn't be yelling that you're a spy if they were."

"But if they were...?" I ask, trailing off with suggestions.

I walk up to him and tilt my head. "Zach, those are my brother and sisters. I thought they were dead. Explanation verified, now answer my questions: Why are you here and how did you find me?"

Zach leans closer towards me, and I edge away warily, unsure of what he's about to do. He looks at me straight in the eye, coming closer and closer. I back up against the wall of earth next to the cavern mouth and look around frantically for an escape. He doesn't stop, though, he just keeps coming closer and closer until his hands reach the wall, on hand on either side of me. Zach is right in front of me, so close that I can see every strand of dark brown hair, every fleck of spring green in his eyes, every crease in his lips. He stands there as our breathing becomes synchronized and I grow a bit panicked.

"Bex, Liz, and Macey were, shall we say, troubled. Not to mention your mother, of course, she was pretty much hysterical with distress. Solomon was _very_ worried, and Abby was starting to tremble like a leaf. I felt...compelled to come and find you. I couldn't stand being around them much longer like that. I knew you'd gone into the woods and when I saw your _brother_ outside—though I didn't know it was him—I decided I'd check to see if a certain Cameron Morgan was in there," he explains, bringing a hand up to my temple. "And I was very concerned with where you'd gone as well."

"You were?" I ask breathlessly, looking at him straight in the eye to see if he was lying.

He nods and brushes some hair out of my face, much to my dismay, as I couldn't stop him. "Yes. I was very worried for your safety."

I get butterflies in my stomach and grimace when I actually wish for them to disappear. "Why would you be worried for me? I met you only about a week ago. What's happened since you handed me that envelope, hmm?"

If I didn't know that it was physically impossible, I would say that he got even closer, his nose almost brushing mine.

"What would be the fun in answering that? _I_ think it would be _much_ more interesting to let you guess," Zach taunts, sending goosebumps down my arms which are—thankfully—hidden by the sleeves of my jacket.

"Hey!" Ethan yells. I jump and Zach turns around to face him. "I thought you said you weren't his girlfriend."

"I'm not," I counter hotly, glaring at Zach. He just smirks, the self-righteous, annoying, conceited little twerp. I punch him in the arm again, still focused on Ethan. Miakota and Raina scramble out of the entrance groggily, yawning and stretching as they zone in on us two. I suddenly feel very self-conscious and step away from Zach quickly, suddenly feeling very warm in my jacket, even though moments ago I felt quite comfortable in the cool morning air. But naturally, Zach just steps very close to me—trying very hard not to laugh—and wraps his arm around my waist. I blush profusely and shove him away.

"Get away from me," I grumble to him. He and Ethan simultaneously burst out laughing, much to my irritation, while Miakota and Raina are attempting to hide their giggles from me as well.

I sigh. This is going to be a _very_ interesting conversation.

**A/N: OMG, I was literally shaking as I wrote this chapter. I felt kind of light-headed as I finished the scene with Zach and Cammie (but that's probably the allergy meds I'm on). Haha, please review! I tried really hard this time!**


	14. Chapter 14: I think the word is 'able'

**A/N: Some of you PM'd me about Cammie's shifting attitude in the last chapter, how she was nervous but then suddenly she internally starts calling Zach names. This is because she is having an emotional battle with herself. YAY! Okay, carry on. **

I step closer to—

**A/N: Oh! One more thing...hehe. Yeah, so I've had 104 reviews as of 11:23 p.m. In London. THANK YOU SO MUCH! I love you guys for giving me so much support—I don't think I've had one negative response! Please keep reviewing, though. It means a lot.**

I step closer to Ethan, trying to separate myself as far from Zach as I can, but of course he follows me when I crouch into the cavern. I nudge the fire a bit with my foot, embers flying out in all directions, before I sit down.

Yeah, of course Zach sits next to me.

He wraps one arm around my shoulder and squeezes, like we're just one, big, happy family around the campfire. That is, if normal, big, happy families sit around a campfire with fellow spies in a cave.

"Come on, Gallagher Girl, this will be fun!" Zach assures me jovially...mockingly.

I shove him away, but tolerate his presence. There was that name again—Gallagher Girl. What the heck is he doing? I don't see him act like this very often.

"So this is the famous Zeke," Ethan sighs, taking a seat across from us. I scoff at his remark, and Zach (naturally) takes the liberty of interrupting my expert scoffage.

"Oh, yes. I'm sure Gallagher Girl here has poured out her heart and soul about how I rescued her from the big bad street drunk about to stab you with a knife and—"

"Hold on. You happened to find me after I beat up a 'big bad street drunk'," I corrected, making air quotes around the phrase. "Also, he isn't famous—I've mentioned him once to you."

They both roll their eyes and Miakota and Raina kind of look amused at Zach and I. While I can, I scoot away from Zach just a bit more, but he keeps copying my movements.

"And it's Zach," I mutter again, brushing the bangs that have floated out of my ponytail out of my eyes.

Zach leans closer, hand cupped around his ear. "What was that?"

"Nothing," I reply casually to his challenging, know-it-all, stupid, smug tone.

He smirks in response, looking triumphant as I shove him a bit more. Zach snaps right back into place, though, like one of those balanced punching bags...I like the thought of him being a punching bag.

"So how did you guys meet?" Miakota asks, always the curious one.

Zach glances sideways at me, as if to say, _You take this one_.

"Some guy was trying to...sexually harrass me, to put it in nicer words, so I flipped him over. No big deal. Zach saw me and recognized me as...well, me. He handed me an envelope which invited me to Gallagher Academy. Of course, by then I had hacked into the CIA, so I knew all about Gallagher. I told him so, and he freaked, taking me to Gallagher. I told, um, the Headmistress everything that I knew about Gallagher. That is, until she stopped me. Then I told her everything I knew about everyone in the room. They were pretty scared by me, and so I attended CoveOps the next day. I killed someone from the Circle—he wasn't very good, so it was easy. Unfortunately," I trail off, sliding my tone of voice into a negative aspect, "the entire junior class of the Gallagher Academy saw me. So, yeah, that didn't quite blow over well. Long story short, I almost killed Zach, intentionally, of course, and I ran off. You know the rest."

We all sit in silence until Raina blurts, "_That_ is the long story short?"

I start laughing at her comment, which really holds no importance to the overall subject, while Zach replies, "Yes."

My chuckles subside to little gasps of laughter and then Zach tries to put his arm around me again.

"Don't even think about it," I warn him with a steely tone, forcing him back by the shoulders.

Zach puts on a smirk, much to my annoyance, and says, "Come on, you know you love it."

"No I don't!" I reply indignantly.

He shrugs off my rejection and simply sings, "Denial!"

I groan at his idiotic assumptions and whisper, "When did you become so...so arrogant?"

Zach winks, much to my distress, and I turn away, facing the cavern wall. Miakota, Raina, and Ethan start discussing supplies thoroughly, though I don't know what their plan is, so Zach leans over.

"Don't you get it? I'm only allowed to be a functional human being when we're alone," he murmurs quietly, the last words sending shivers down my spine. Why does he suddenly have a big effect on me? That first day...I was all over the place, surprising people right and left, and he was...just as surprised as the others. But now he's suddenly got this hold on my emotions and reactions. And I don't know why.

It takes me a couple seconds, but I come up with a comeback. "Are you sure the phrase is 'allowed'? Because I think the word you're looking for is 'able': You're only _able_ to be a functional human being when I'm around," I reply cockily, standing up to get out.

I trample the smoldering fire and exit into the misty morning air. Ethan, Zach, Miakota, and Raina file out behind me.

"So, are we going back to Gallagher or not?" I ask finally, after a couple moments of contemplative silence. When no one responds, I know the answer is yes. "Okay, then. Let's go."

We hike along for an hour or so, not exchanging words because of the heavy exertion of climbing over rocks and branches. When we get to a big boulder that looks like a mushroom (sort of), I know we're about halfway there. The terrain levels out, and now it's only a walk for the half hour left to go.

"So, Gallagher Girl, what made you change your mind about our lovely school?" Zach asks, walking over to me. Well, closer over than he was before.

I sigh and stop, hand on my hip. "Why do you keep calling me Gallagher Girl? My name's Cammie."

"You're a girl, right?" Zach asks. I give a look. _Um, do you see me? Do guys have boobs?_

He continues, unfazed by my lack of response. "And you go to Gallagher, right?"

Well, sort of. Anyways, I say, "Yeah. And?"

"So you're a Gallagher Girl," he explains, starting to get a little frustrated.

I crack a half-smile. "Yep. You got that right. Just like every other girl who goes to Gallagher." **(A/N: I always imagined her saying that!) **

We soon approach the grounds of the Academy, and I saunter up to the front like I don't have a care in the world, and say, "Cameron Morgan here requesting entrance."

I suppose the message does take a while to transfer up to the Headmistress, but when it does, I hear, "Oh! Cameron, are you okay? Is Zachary with you? Where did you go? Do you know just _how _sick with worry I was?"

I wave her questions away, replying, "Yes, I am fine. Can I come in now? I've got a couple of guests."

Apparently, I could, since the wrought iron gates that—supposedly—kept me from escaping the grounds opened and I could just walk right up the path.

Ethan stretches and confirms, "Yeah, I'm ready to see the all-girl school I was never allowed to come and visit."

Zach snorts, but I ignore him, retorting quietly, "Yeah, but the question is: Are you ready to see mom?"

**A/N: Okay, that was kinda choppy, but I think I did okay! Anyways, REVIEW, as always, because I love your feedback. I also typed down waffles in place of 'Where' in 'Where did you go?' Maybe I have a subconscious craving for waffles...hmm. I should get to bed. It's not good for me to be up this late. It took me nearly an hour to write this! G'nite.**


	15. Chapter 15: This won't end well

**A/N: It's bloody 3:30 in the morning (as I'm starting this) and I am posting! Woo-hoo! I'm probably going to post another chapter later in the morning ('cause I don't think you can fall asleep after seven glasses of Diet Dr. Pepper), but if I don't please don't be mad at me! Ha, yeah, you Americans are probably going to be asleep by...let's see...midnight for you all. Review if you love my late night/early (**_**early**_**) morning postings. You probably don't if you don't live in America, but whatever. Warning: 'almost' moment. Love ya,**

**-Cam**

As we shuffle through the hallways, we get a lot of stares. I mean a _lot_ of stares; people were crashing into each other. I realize, with a sensation of confusion and anger, that I've been slipping out of my cover the past few days with Zach. Then I realize, with a sensation of complete and utter horror, that he knows who I am. I give a sharp intake of breath once I become aware of this, but otherwise nothing changes on my expression. No, seriously, I even gasp through my nose. If that's possible.

"Cam?" Miakota whispers. My feet patter over the red carpet at the same pace. My heartbeat keeps it's calm, collected pace. Everything stays the same except for one, subtle, hardly noticeable nod.

"What's, you know...What's mom like?" she asks. I lift my eyebrows just a moment, surprised at her frightened, vulnerable tone. I decide that now is the time to instigate my cover, so I literally trip everyone up when...well, I announce loudly, "You'll just have to see."

I give a slightly sarcastic, cold laugh at this, beginning to shrug back into my own skin. Ethan, Miakota, and Raina look _extremely_ confused and suspicious at my outburst, while Zach seems kind of disappointed. But I carry on, because I am not the kind of person who cares.

I don't even bother knocking, and now that I think about it, no one really should. What could the Headmistress be doing that we shouldn't know about? I plaster a bored look on my face as the door bangs against the table again and the statue almost tips over again. Almost. Until I stop it with one finger, setting it back on it's rectangular bottom.

Headmistress Morgan almost sighs, but seems to be just able to control it when I lean against the staircase that—I assume—leads up to her quarters. She gives me a heartbreaking look that should shatter my facade, should make me burst into tears.

Should.

I look her straight in the eye and smirk mischievously. Zach groans and Ethan gives me a disbelieving, disgusted look. Miakota and Raina still manage to be quite disoriented, and decidedly oblivious to our little disagreement.

But once Ms. Morgan lays eyes on the twins, her expression softens. The twins' eyes water at the sight and they run to hug her. Ethan kind of lingers behind, uncertain whether or not to approach. But something seems off.

Although I may act like I don't care about my mom, I really do. It seems strange, I know, but it's just...some kind of involuntary thing, as far as I'm concerned. But even though I act that way, I really don't know her. I'm not just pretending about this. I don't know anything about her. Yet, Miakota and Raina seem to act like they...do.

My eyes widen at this thought. Is it possible? They knew her? Hmm, Miakota and Raina entered Gallagher 9 years ago, which means they graduated three years ago. Ms. Morgan became Headmistress five years ago, so that means...

"Cammie!" Zach exclaims. I jerk my head up in response, wondering why he's so distressed. Maybe I didn't answer a question. I was kind of spaced out there for a moment. You know, figuring out that my sisters not only were alive and chose to ignore me, but also knew my mom and didn't tell me. My eyes narrow in their direction, but I'm still listening to Zach.

"Yeah?" I ask, tilting my head in a sinister way. In a very 'Cammie'-esque way. The twins bask in my mother's embrace, gripping her tight, like a lifeline. Ethan seems to be trying to associate with them. Then again, maybe he knew her, too.

"Let go of the table," Zach orders slowly, holding his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

I frown at this and look down at my hands. They're gripping the edge of the desk so tightly that my knuckles are white and a tiny fissure has appeared from my attempt to break it. Well, subconscious attempt, by any means. I slowly release the edge and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

Was I really that angry? Well, yeah. Did they deserve to be the target of such hatred? Maybe. But 'Cammie' didn't care, did she?

No.

"You knew," I hiss lowly, taking slow, murderous steps toward the four. "You all knew and didn't tell me? So you've been lying to me even more than I thought you were!"

They all look paralyzed **(Is that the American spelling?) **until I start bursting out in little spurts of chuckles at my stupidity. Everyone—with the exception of Zach, who knows _exactly _what I'm doing—starts giggling nervously with me.

"You think that's funny?" I demand, my facial expression whipping into a position as steely as sterling silver, as cold as dry ice. They all stop immediately, looking guilty, confused, and anxious all at the same time. Zach steps forward, but stops when I give him a terrifying glare.

My eyelids lower in what could be interpreted as a seductive way, but you would know that is _totally_ not what I'm going for by the look of scorn that simply rages in my kaleidoscopic eyes. I can feel them all start to panic at the sight of me changing eye colors drastically as fast as I can will them to. Purple to gold, green to red, blue to a green. A fierce, emerald, springtime green.

"Ha! 'Ready to meet mom'. You've met her countless times, haven't you?" I ask, looking straight at the twins with their own eyes. "And you!" I shout at Ethan. "You've probably known her since the day you were born. She was there for you and cared for you. But naturally, she decided to all but disappear after the twins are born."

I whirl around and pull open the door with a loud vacuum sound. Stalking out in a pure rage, Zach reaches out to grab my wrist. I wrench it out of his grasp, startled. Wherever he so much as brushed against me fire has followed. I'm sure if it was because I'm mad or grateful.

"Don't touch me!" I snap furiously, my eyes starting to melt back to my normal baby blue. The hallway is merely a centimeter, the staircases only a small hop as I run out of the room. My vision blurs as I make my way through the mansion, not by tears, but with confusion and hurt and stuff all so real I can't bear to take it anymore.

I find myself sitting in Zach's room.

He doesn't make a single noise as he enters the room about twenty minutes later. He probably searched the whole of the grounds before coming here to look, but I don't care. I just sit there quietly, staring out the window. Half of me tells me to turn around and talk to him like I have been the past couple of days, but the other half is screaming at me to exit the room. My breathing becomes heavy as I begin to feel trapped and suffocated. Like there is no where to run. No where to hide. Wherever I go, I'll never be able to find somewhere permanent. Gallagher isn't the right place for me, but neither is Richmond, now, either.

Right now, the only place that I can seem to think of is here with Zach.

I force myself to turn towards him, opening my mouth to tell him that he really shouldn't try to figure me out, but I find myself choking on air. For precisely two-point-five-eight seconds, I cannot think of something to do or say. The only thing I can manage to think of is:

"What are you doing, Zach?"

He looks kind of hurt, but then he looks amused. That is, in the split second he has before he turns curious.

"Are you ever going to tell me why you shot that man in town?" he questions with a sincere desire to know. This takes me aback. It seems like it's been weeks since I did that when, in reality, it's only been about three or four days.

"He not the first person to die on my account," I tell him grimly, starting to smirk as I run back into my personality. Hard. "Many people have died because of my mistakes, yes. But he's someone I killed consciously. For both of those categories, he is not a first. Nor will he be the last."

Zach seems kind of like he's going to laugh, look at me in awe, and strangle me all at the same time. I can understand that. It's not everyday—even for a spy—that you meet someone who will kill people without a second thought, and my poetic way of speaking _was _pretty strange. Also, I hadn't given him a straight answer. I'd kind of want to giggle while I strangled someone with an admiring look on my face too.

I crossed my legs on the bench I sat on, facing Zach. He looks surprised by this, but doesn't object or move closer. I nudge his foot with mine.

"Why aren't you doing anything? Usually you'll try to: A) Say something, or B) try to annoy me. What is going on?" I ask dramatically.

Zach smirks at me, and I groan. I guess that's the price I pay for provoking annoying behavior.

"I believe you told me, I quote, 'Don't touch me', end quote," Zach tells me with a very serious tone, though his smiling eyes give him away. He leans forward, closer to my face, and my breath quickens pace.

"I believe that...um," I stutter as he keeps getting closer. What do I do, what do I do? "I could possibly, er, revoke that statement."

"Really now?" Zach asks, getting even closer to me. So close that I can see his eyes moving along, following mine. So close that...I feel like he's about to kiss me.

This won't end well.

"Yep," I confirm confidently, leaning back on my hands, wrists bending oddly as he starts to lean over on all fours, still trying to get closer to me. "That's right."

"Well, then, I'll have to test out the new statement," he tells me, still very serious, and, naturally, still with that god damn smirk on his face. He keeps getting closer, closing his eyes when he gets close to my nose. And then...I slip off of the bench.

The fork in the road being that he doesn't even look slightly offended. He looks...intrigued and amused.

"You're fun, Blackthorne Boy. Hope to catch you later," I say, winking while fake-tipping my hat and smoothly sliding out the door into the hallway.

And I walk without a single regret.

**A/N: Phew! Lord, it took me two whole hours to write this. Maybe because it's the longest chapter I've ever written for this story. Do you know how crazy that is? Very. I'm starting to bring a bit of the old Cammie out, but don't worry. She'll still be here for you tomorrow. Love you all, and please REVIEW. *tries to covertly devour reviews* Oh, you **_**saw**_** that? Ugh, and I thought I was good at it!**


	16. Chapter 16: Are you afraid?

**A/N: So, this is a really long chapter. I hope you enjoy it. I expect Reviews, people, for what I grudgingly gave you all. You'll see by the end. THANK YOU!**

"Cammie!" I hear someone yell. I turn around, but I am knocked off my feet by a...blonde wrecking ball? Struggling to breath, I try to pry whatever it is off of me as quickly as possible. You know, before I figure out that it isn't possible.

"Liz, let the girl breathe," Macey instructs, rolling her eyes as she struts down the hall with Baxter. Liz leaps up and offers me her hand. I take it, and gasp air as I brush myself off a bit. Macey looks at me indifferently, but Bex looks enraged, per se.

"Where have you been? They had the whole school on a search for you. I wasn't allowed to go to my P&E lesson!" Bex exclaims, miffed. I raise my eyebrows and give a small smile of surprise. She punches me in the arm. Or, tries to, by any means. I quickly grab her arm in midswing and roll over her to pin her on the ground.

"That wasn't much of a happy greeting, was it?" I ask, faux sweetly. She glares at me, but I only get up off of her and offer my hand. She ignores it, naturally, and strides towards the Dining Hall. Ethan, Miakota, and Raina finally see me as they exit the Headmistress's office, much to my dismay, and I try to get away from them as subtly and quickly as possible.

"Come on, Cammie," Liz says, trying to be nice, I suppose, "sit with us for dinner."

I glance towards the three heading my way and say, "Sure. I guess I could."

We pile into the Dining Hall and I grab whatever is the first thing I see, waiting for Liz and Macey to finish gathering their food. Liz leads us through the crowds with surprising ease, for such a petite girl, and sits at the back of the Hall.

The sign on the front wall says 'English- American', so I take that as my cue to start a conversation.

"Is it ever English- English?" I ask, pointing to the sign with my fork.

Bex comes over and sets her tray down next to Macey and I's. "Yeah, sometimes it is. Other times they have us speak Japanese, Spanish, French," Bex says, shrugging at the end. "Lots of languages you don't understand."

"Excusez-moi?" I start, planning to switch languages. "Conozco a muchos idiomas."

Yeah, they don't think I know languages, but I do. "Watashi wa anata to onajide, shibaraku mae ni, korera no gakushū o hajimemashita."

They all look at me, surprised, but Bex says, "How do I know that you are not just saying the simple words? That's pretty basic talk."

"Whatashi wa anata ga hontoni ki ni utagau. Watashi wa shinpuruna fukuzatsude wanai kotoba o tsukatte ita to shite mo, watashi wa mada tsushin dekimasu," I reply, eating a piece of mushroom soup, it turns out. Scratch what I said, I probably started earlier than them.

"Fine," Bex says, but I barely hear her as the Headmistress turns on the microphone and begins talking.

The crowd quiets down as she says, "I have an announcement to make."

"Obviously" I mutter quietly as Zach walks into the Hall.

She grips the edge of the podium as she continues, "My two daughters and my only son have come to the Gallagher Academy." She motions to the twins at the back of the Hall and Ethan in the corner parallel mine.

"You have brothers and sister?" Bex groans. "Just three more arrogant idiots to deal with."

I kick her under the table while the Headmistress carries on about how she hasn't seen them in a while.

"I would have told you, but I thought they were dead," I snap. Zach looks at me with surprise, but comes over to join us.

"Hi, Zach," Liz pipes, finishing off her fruit. He nods and smiles, his eyes on Ms. Morgan.

Ethan and the twins file onto the stage as she says something very important. "And they are going to be helping as CoveOps assistants."

"What?" I demand, the entire school starting to whisper to one another. I stand up and stalk up to the staff table, where the...well, where the staff sits and grab Ms. Morgan by the arm.

"Care to explain?" I seethe, looking to my siblings still on the stage, looking around with a serene look on their faces. I just...I'm lost for words. What on earth has possessed her to give them a position here? We don't need CoveOps assistants anyways! We have Abby! Who else could take that job? Well, obviously there are lots of people who could, but that is beside the point.

Ms. Morgan looks just as confused as I am, so I run out of the Hall.

"Cammie!" I hear someone yell for the second time. Except, I know who it is, now. I ignore that 'someone' and take a sharp right to the entrance doors, breathing in the sweet night air. I could go to the P&E barn, or I could try to run away again. I know neither of them will hide me, but maybe I won't have people listening in to whatever 'someone' wants to talk about. The wind nips at my hands, and I remember that it's almost winter break. What am I going to do? I'm _definitely_ not going to stay with my family, I couldn't stand that. Which means either I would end up killing them or that I would end up escaping. Neither of those sounds exactly like a candid choice, but I don't particularly have time for debate while I run into the P&E barn. I've...never actually been in here before, but I can tell that it is. The workout equipment hanging from the rafters or piled on the sides, the smell of hay...probably because there's about 25 bales of hay on one end. I sit on those, and wait for him to find me.

It really doesn't take him that long, and it shouldn't, since he saw me running here. He stops when he sees me sitting on the hay, head in my hands, elbows propped on my knees.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he comes over to me and sits beside me silently. For precisely ten minutes and forty-three seconds, he and I sit there. Until he covers my hand with his.

"Hey," Zach says softly. "What's going on? I know that this is kind of surprising, but aren't you glad you get to see your family all the time?"

I brush my hair back out of my eyes—with the hand that Zach isn't holding—as I lift my head up. My eyes are probably a pale blue, but I don't care what I look like right now. I know that I'm allowed to let my guard down this once.

But I also know that now is not the time to explain everything.

"Zach, I..." I begin, but I falter as I realize that I have no idea what to say. "I will tell you about what is going on sometime. Not today, but definitely sometime. Right now I am just...confused. I didn't want to come here, and now I am here with people I am really angry at."

He gives me a hurt look and I feel bad for not telling him what is going on, but I, for some reason, don't feel that he is hurt about that.

"You're...really angry at me?" he asks, stunned.

I start to smile a bit. "No, not you. Not you at all. I just don't understand what I'm going to do, now. I don't know what I'm going to do for break, I don't know what I'm going to do in the next hour. I don't know what I'm going to do about anything in my life."

Zach reaches over and pulls me close to him with an urgency. I stiffen at the sudden touch, but then remember: It's okay to let my guard down this once. I lean onto him, sudddenly feeling exhausted as his warmth surrounds me.

We sit there for a while, just together, until he says, "I know that Ms. Morgan goes to Nebraska every break."

"Yeah, me too," I sigh. "But I don't think I could handle it with just the Headmistress and my siblings."

Zach turns sideways and buries his head in between the wall and my head and murmurs, "Maybe I could stay at Gallagher with you."

I look at him, surprised, but realize that he has a great idea. That could work. He has been my friend more than anyone here, so far.

"Yeah," I agree softly, "maybe you could."

He looks at me intently, something I can't put my finger on burning in his eyes. An intensity so great that I feel as if I'm about to crumble. I'm in the corner, so I can't move as he leans in closer. I start to feel panicky, but I remind myself again: It's okay to let my guard down.

He keeps coming even closer, his arms wrapping tighter around me. I bite my lip in indecision. I can run away, now, like I have been doing, or take a chance to jump over the cliff.

Zach stops, suddenly, and retracts one arm to reach up and touch my cheek. I breathe quickly as his thumb trails down my cheek to touch my lip. He looks at how I still am uncertain, and he stops.

"Are you afraid?" he whispers, gazing into my eyes with a concern.

I shake my head, feeling kind of vulnerable now as he moves some hair out of my eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asks quietly, his finger not leaving my lip.

I nod at this, relaxing against the wall. Zach leans a bit closer, even, and I surprise myself by leaning towards him, as well. He closes his eyes, and I feel his lashes brush my cheekbone as I do the same.

And then his lips touched mine.

**A/N: You all got what has been demanded...sort of...don't worry. I'll be updating either today again or tomorrow. Like? No? Please REVIEW! I love your feedback.**


	17. Chapter 17: Controlling emotions

**A/N: Okay, this chapter is relatively short. This is because it is kind of the dividing chapter in the story. The turning page, you know? These next chapters will be about the break. (holiday, not romantic separation.) I have to thank you all for reviewing constantly and giving my story so much support. You're the reason I write, simply. An answer to the commonly demanded question: Why does Cammie never refer to her mom as 'Mom'? The answer is that she doesn't feel like she should call her mom, she doesn't like her mom very much. WARNING: this chapter is very sappy/soft/raw. But the next couple will have lots of bad Cammie. Okay, let the Zammie commence!**

Zach draws me closer, so my legs bend over his lap, and I bring my arm up over his chest before I reach the back of his neck. I pull myself towards him as the kiss deepens slowly. He seems to be trying to be delicate and tender about this, not wanting to push me too far. And that means even more than the kiss itself. The fact that he's trying to make me feel comfortable about it.

Eventually, after a time—one minute and twelve seconds—he pulls away slowly, setting me down gently against the wall with his hands still behind my back. I open my eyes, and look at him.

Zach is staring at me with...that emotion I can't define again. It's driving me crazy.

"What color are my eyes?" I ask him softly, though abruptly.

He frowns in confusion, but answers, "Brown. A light, caramel brown. Why?"

"Because," I start, a small, peaceful smile on my face, "my eyes reflect my emotions. Brown means that I am happy."

Zach gives me smirk—totally ruining the moment, by the way—but then his face falls unexpectedly. Carefully, my left hand still cupping his neck, I take one hand and take a finger under his chin and lift it up slowly, forcing him to look at me. "What's wrong?"

"Couldn't you tell by your own emotions that you were happy?" Zach asks, looking hesitant. I grimace at his question. Really, there's nothing wrong with the question—I'd ask it myself! But I don't want to lie to him right now. Not when he's been willing to be sensitive to me.

"Well...yes, I could. But it's a problem I have where I..." I trail off uneasily, wondering if this will hurt him or push him away. I don't want to be anywhere else but in his arms right now.

He runs his finger over my collarbone, making my breathing speed up (however, _totally _not making the rest of my sentence flow easier).

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Zach says, still tracing over the bone. I'm beginning to get very aggravated at his ability to distract me.

"Stop that," I order him, squirming a bit. He smirks, of course, and takes his hand away from my neck, but then proceeds to stroke a soft spot behind my ear. I smack his arm away playfully, leaning into him a bit more as I decide to finish my thought.

"I have a problem where I can't decipher my real emotions from my fake ones," I tell him with a confident air to my voice. "The emotions that come from lies I tell myself—you know, so I can believe them."

"Well, then what would help you work your emotions out?" Zach asks, returning to my collarbone.

I sigh in exasperation. "Cut it out! And I don't know. What's the time?"

"Seven thirty-one," he replies, not missing a beat. I frown, but start to clamber out of his embrace with a reluctance. He stops me, however. "What?"

"It's getting late and they'll start wondering where I am," I tell him with a sad tone. "Let's get back inside."

We stand up and climb down the hay—well, I more like fall down, but don't tell anyone—and we approach the barn doors. He grabs me for a second kiss, a short, chaste one, but I don't mind at all.

"Oh, and Blackthorne Boy? Don't tell anyone about this unless you want a very overprotective brother coming and killing you in your sleep," I say, totally serious, by the way.

"I won't, Gallagher Girl. It'll be our little secret," he says, winking.

And I return the favor.

**A/N: So, if you're still confused about her constant change of attitude, it's because she feels like she can only open up around Zach. It never happens unless she's with Zach. That'll lead to conflict later, but farewell for now, crazy people! It's two in the morning, here. I am working very hard on the next chapter, though. It'll be extra long for ya. REVIEW!**


	18. Chapter 18: That's how I like it

**A/N: Yay! I got it out a lot sooner than I thought I would! Here it is, though. A time skip of about two weeks, I'd say. Please don't be mad, I thought I explained everything that was truly important about the status of our characters. REVIEW!**

"So!" Zach says as he pulls into the kitchen of Gallagher Academy. "What is the emotional breakdown of the day?"

I scoff, slapping his arm as I run down the stairs. "Emotional breakdown? I'm sorry, I'm Cameron Morgan, the amazing kick-butt spy!" I hop over to the huge wooden counter lined with granite and chop off a huge chunk of cheese (cheddar, in case you were wondering).

"Please, those first couple days you couldn't stop having to talk to me. You had some problems to work out, obviously," Zach points out, much to my annoyance. My annoyance was also inflicted because he stole some of my cheese. I sigh and roll the cheese back up in it's parchment paper, seamlessly tucking it into the shelves between the colby and castelmagno cheese.

"Are you ever going to let me live that down? I've known you for almost a month, now," I remind him, reaching into the fridge for some ham and sourdough bread. He steals more of my cheese, I notice, glancing at his reflection in the brushed chrome door.

"Zach, if you want your own sandwich, you can get it yourself," I tell him, exasperated. He only shrugs and proceeds to steal more of my cheese, which results in me sighing for a second time. I toss the sealed plastic bag onto the counter and Zach opens it before I can even come back over to the island.

"And no, I'm never going to let that go. I'll make you suffer until the end of time," he informs me matter-of-factly. I stroll over to the island lazily and start to cut up the food to a sandwich size before piling it all onto two different sandwiches, knowing oh-so well how Zach would want food.

"Well, since it's only the first day of break, I can't kill you...yet. But maybe towards the end you could drive me a bit less crazy. Just as a precaution," I suggest, scooting his sandwich towards him. He picks it up and is about to take a bite when Ethan rushes down the stairs.

"Hey!" I say, nearly letting myself blush at him catching Zach and I alone. Over the past month, though, I've gotten used to being nearly caught in close proximity with him, learning to act like I wasn't.

Though I totally was.

"Hey," Ethan says, "apparently something came up at the CIA and they had someone else take the mission. So...we're all going to be here for break!"

My stomach drops and sinks through the floor and the crust of the earth, eventually burning to atoms as it hits the earth's core. You see, Ms. Morgan, the twins, and Ethan were going on a mission over break, which meant I wouldn't have to deal with them, but now...

"That's great!" I say brightly, as far as anyone else is concerned. I feel Zach tense a bit at the news, and I subtly elbow him a bit. Not to hurt him, but to let him know that his reaction is noticeable. "Well, I was actually just going to walk around a bit with Zach. Do you mind?"

"No, go ahead," Ethan says lightly as I exit the room without waiting for a response, tugging Zach by the elbow in a friendly way. I hop up the stairs, appearing below the twin staircase that leads to the Headmistress's office. We both file out into the hallways and Zach takes us to his room. You know, behind the Gallagher tapestry, down the first—and only that I know of—hallway, into the cupola's chamber.

"Cammie!" Zach exclaims, totally not being serious by the expression on his face. "You didn't let me eat my sandwich!"

I laugh a bit at this. "Are you really bored enough to accuse me of restricting food?"

"Yep," he says, sitting on the floor next to me. We could sit in the chair that he gathered from somewhere, but we didn't. We liked the stone, and if I got tired of it—though Zach never did—Zach would sit me on his lap as we talked.

"Well, what are we going to do now?" I ask curiously, gazing out the window of his room. Zach leans over and kisses my temple, moving down my cheekbone, and I groan. "Zach, I was thinking more along the lines of...maybe exploring for passages, or we could spend the day on the roof!"

He ignores me and kisses me behind me ear. I sigh and turn towards him with a serious expression on my face. "We can even go down and make more sandwiches, if you want."

"Wouldn't the sandwiches still be there?" Zach asks, pulling away from me and frowning. I grin and shrug at the possibilities. He draws me closer while I still think about my answer. However, my thoughts drift off to my friends. Liz, Bex, Macey, and I had all become friends under mutual terms.

-Flashback-

_I went back to my dorm with a small smile on my face from Zach. He was my first kiss. My only kiss. And I wanted it to stay that way. Never did I want another boy to touch me._

_"Cammie," Bex stated as I walked into the room. "We need to talk."_

_I smirked—damn, Zach was rubbing off on me—and said, "What? You breaking up with me?"_

_She ground her teeth. "Macey, there is no way in hell I'm ever going to be even slightly pleasant to this girl, much less 'friends on a mutual agreement'."_

"_Come on, Bex, she's not that bad," Macey insisted, flipping through a Vogue magazine that everyone knew had flashcards taped to the inside anyways._

_I watched their exchange with an amused expression on my face. "Really, Ice Queen?"_

"_Never mind," Macey sighed with a disgusted and slightly furious look to her. I grinned as I jumped onto my bed—which still didn't have any covers on it—and put my hands behind my head, a sign of leisure. Though I was far from it, I pretended to act comfortable in my skinny black jeans which were giving me a wedgie and my jacket which sucked up into my armpits and made my sides feel exposed._

"_So what is it you want from me, you all?" I asked, closing my eyes with my tiredness. Liz glanced over to me with an apology written over her face—not literally, of course._

"_We have three rules in this dorm, and we expect you to follow them," Liz told me factually, looking nervous as she continued, "You don't embarrass us in front of our crushes, you are only allowed to beat us up in P&E, and—"_

"_And you have _got_ to stop being such...such an insufferable know-it-all!" Macey exclaimed, cutting Liz off and throwing her Vogue down onto her mattress._

_I thought about it for a couple of minutes. The first rule didn't technically apply to me because: A) they didn't know about Zach and I, and B) I didn't even know if Zach and I were credibly dating. And even if we were, they weren't supposed to know about us anyways. And I could never find fault with LizandJonas or MaceyandNick because Macey and Liz didn't drive me out of my mind and I didn't know much about Nick or Jonas, but BexandGrant? I could only find fault with Bex. She is a nasty piece of work, as far as getting to like her. The second rule? I could live with it, though for me it only applied to Macey and Bex—I loved Liz too much already, she's such a sweetheart! The third rule, though, __only__ applied to yours truly._

"_Fine," I say. And that's the only thing I say before turning over on my side and falling asleep._

-End Flashback-

"Hello?" Zach asks jokingly, waving a hand in front of my face. I shake my head and remember where I am, still staring out the window.

"Ah, yes, the sandwiches wouldn't be there because Ethan probably ate them," I explain flippantly, giving Zach a quick peck on the cheek as I stand up to go back to the kitchen since I really _am_ hungry now. He follows me to the doorway and then pulls me back a bit, so that he is caging me in his arms. Not that I mind, it's just...I really am hungry.

"Yes, Zach?" I ask sweetly, and he starts talking fast then because he knows that I am not to be pushed when I start sounding like a little lollipop girl.

"How about we go into town instead?" Zach asks, swaying us from side to side as he talks. Zach couldn't go home for Christmas break anyways...for obvious reasons. I didn't mind at all, however, because...well, for obvious reasons.

"Hmm," I say slowly, mock debating. "I suppose I _could_ ask Ms. Morgan if we could go into town for a little while..."

Zach grins and hugs me, knowing he's won me over. He whispers into my ear, "Could you?"

I bury my head into his shoulder, tightening my grip around his waist, "Yeah, let's go."

I think about how he just hugged me as we walk out of the passageway and take a right, turning down the main corridor to the front entrance. It seems like he just wants someone to hold and be around. I'm not just a person to like, am I? I'm more than that, right? Someone he chose because he actually finds something quality about me—don't ask me how, even I don't know! Slowly, I climb up the stairs, pushing Zach behind me and see the Headmistress in her office with Ethan and Miakota.

"Hello, Cameron. Do you need something?" Ms. Morgan asks, slightly irritated, I can tell. This ticks me off a bit since _she_ was the one who changed all of my plans around—unknowingly, of course—but I try to put a smile on my face. Operative word: try.

"Where's Miakota?" I ask, trying to drag this out as long as I can to annoy her. I look around exaggeratedly, trying to look for her when I clearly see she's not here.

"Bathroom," Ethan informs me abruptly.

"Ah," I reply, politely disinterested. "Well, me and Zach were wondering if we could go to town for the afternoon. Can we?"

"Of course," Ms. Morgan answers quickly, seemingly relieved to get us out of her hair. "Whenever you like."

We exit the room awkwardly with no parting words, only shuffling uncomfortably out of the situation. My feet drum down the staircase, over the red rug that lines the steps, and tumble out of the front doors. I glance at the road and decide that I really don't want to walk five miles into Roseville, so I tell Zach, "Follow me."

We duck around the security cameras, rolling over logs and hedges while we go, and finally arrive at a tiny little cellar door in the floor. I open it quietly and tap in the code to retract the invisible laser beams without a second thought.

Zach glances between the keypad and I and says, "You scare me sometimes."

"I know, Blackthorne Boy," I reply airily with a smile. "That's how I like it."

**A/N: So? What you think? Again, as you can see I had a time skip in there, and again, please don't be mad. If you think I should rewrite it, tell me. However I was kind of mean, you didn't really get a true Zammie kiss in there, but I think last chapter will suffice. Please REVIEW!**


	19. Chapter 19: Oh My God

**A/N: o_o So I have a pretty good excuse for being late. I tried to make this chapter long, hence it taking more time to write. Also, ****Fire at Darkness**** wanted me to do a UK spelling chapter. So, I have a habit of spelling like Americans do because that's how I write on FanFiction and I messed up so many times. I lived in America for two years, so it isn't that hard really, but I kept telling myself, 'Okay, regular spelling, Cam. You can do it.' **

**Apparently, I can't.**

**But please enjoy this special spelling chapter (not really) because I tried to include as many words as I could. REVIEW!**

"Zach, it's just a railroad," I tell him, looking at his open mouth. He seems paralysed, standing there gawking at the simple train car. Really, it's just a wooden box with benches. I walk over to it and motion for Zach to follow, sitting on the side where my back is facing the track. **(rhyme)**

He clambers over the sides and sits down on the dark coloured bench while I type in 'Roseville' on the keypad before firmly punching a green button. The car lurches and the tracks give a clamour as we begin to move.

It chugs off at an increasing speed, and I watch Zach marvelling at the car and the different pathways that branch off from our track. I sit back and try to relax, savouring the one moment I have caught Zachary Goode by surprise. Moments, it takes us in reality, but it seems like only seconds as the car comes to a halt at the Roseville station.

"Come on, Zach," I urge, wanting for us to actually _get_ to town today. He gets out and looks back at the whole contraption, enraptured by the fact he never knew of a literal 'Underground Railroad'.

"You need to practise," I tease Zach on the walk to the aboveground entrance. "It's only the first day of break, and you're starting to relinquish from your perfect mould."

He looks at me in surprise, pretending to be insulted. "In my defence, you did just reveal a secret transportation system below your secret spy school. What else could I do?

I hug him, glad that he's not focusing on the fact I shouldn't know about this (at all), but Rachel's just so damn easy to eavesdrop on!

"So what're we going to do here? I mean, how do we get out?" Zach questions, gesturing to the dark ceiling only barely illuminated by electronic torches.

"The bushes by Dale's Coffee are fake," I explain cryptically, grinning as we begin to approach the exit. I remove the manhole cover, extracting myself from the tunnel, manoeuvreing carefully so as not to attract unwanted attention. (Of course, we want the citizens of Roseville to admire the well-kempt hedges by Dale's Coffee)

Zach follows quickly, and I kick the cover back over it. We glance around carefully, slightly straying away from the kerb of the sidewalk to be sure.

"Coffee?" I offer, motioning to the shop in front of us.

Zach shrugs, smirking. "Sure, m'lady."

We hop into the relatively warm air of Dale's Coffee, relishing the thawing of our limbs as we walk up the counter.

"How may I help you?" a very cheery, very..._pink_ teen about our age asks, long, manicured nails poised to type in an order on the cash register.

"Um, caramel macchiato for me and..." I trail off, glancing at Zach uncertainly. He strides forward and looks at the menu for a brief second before saying, "Green tea latte."

I pull out some notes **(Brit term for bills)** and start to hand her what I know the beverages will cost, but Zach stops me with his arm and shows how he's already payed. I look at him sternly, as if to say he should have known better than to pay, but he only shrugs and gives me a little smile in return, like he's saying that he should know better to do a lot of things.

I huff, but thank him gratefully at his generous gesture. I realise, with a start, that he is trying to cheer me up from my family predicament. He chuckles as he hands me my coffee, probably at my facial expression, but I don't care. I only blush a red, not wanting to be my cover. For the first time in my life, I wish to forget my spy side and let _me_ control the situation.

'I'm sorry, I'm Cameron Morgan, the amazing kick-butt spy!' I remember myself saying this morning. Well, I was right. And that's the problem.

I want to be Cameron Morgan, the amazing kick-butt girl. I can be a spy, too, but I said 'spy', not girl spy. So much gravity pins me down in that phrase. I said 'spy', not girl, or any other gender of living human being.

So many things to explain, such little emotional tolerance. **(There's a new one.)**

"So, Gallagher Girl," Zach starts, much to my annoyance as I reach towards the napkins. "What do you want to do on this fine, cold, December day?"

I snort a bit and stir my coffee. "I don't know. We could have lunch, it's almost time. However I will not let you eat unless I pay," I finish with a glare. "Or we could just walk around, maybe duck into a few shops. I have to go Christmas shopping for my family, anyways," I inform him with a distasteful look on my face.

"Me, too, for Jonas, Grant, and Nick," Zach agrees, sipping his latte for a while as I silently muse, 'And the girls, too.' We sit there in a comfortable silence until I finish my drink and Zach stands up, offering me his hand. I take it, although honestly not needing it, and we walk off to a clothing shop for Macey, Bex, Raina, and Miakota.

I hop in, pick out a stylish flowing baby blue top with a chunky black belt for Macey, a beautiful reddish-brown leather bracelet for Bex, remembering how she told me she's always wanted a leather bracelet, and a pair of fingerless gloves for Liz, reminiscing about how she told me her hands were cold on her laptop, but she couldn't wear any kind of covering because she couldn't type properly. But I'm stumped on Miakota and Raina's presents. They should be different, but I can't decide.

"Don't give yourself a haemorrhage," Zach jokes, pulling the two pairs of jeans out of my arms. I sigh and pick out a pretty pair of green earring for Miakota, and then buy an electric green belt for Raina. Zach points out a very fancy knife from a hardware store, and I get that for Ethan, deciding to skip my mom for today. I'll come back later.

Zach has gotten pretty much male versions of what I got for the girls for the boys. I organise the articles in my arms before we decide we should head back. Right before we exit the door up into the grounds, I look at Zach seriously and say, "You know, I'll tell you someday."

"About your family?" Zach asks, an equally serious look on his own face. I nod gently and get up on my tiptoes so that I can kiss him. His lips meet mine with sparks, but we are interrupted.

"Oh. My. God."

**A/N: So? Who do ya think it is? Sorry if it was kind of nondescript, but I liked it better that way, so, yeah. REVIEW!**


	20. Chapter 20: Stop doing what?

**A/N: Here's chapter twenty! I got lots of reviews, so I tried to write this one as soon as I could.**

**Also, a guest reviewed about how only one word was spelled differently, and I have to say that there are lots. Ex: paralyse, colour, manoeuvre, kerb, practise. So... anyways, I just had to say that since I can't PM. Okay, read.**

I pull away from Zach, but keep my eyes closed. Taking a deep breath, I prepare to face the Headmistress, Ethan, one of the twins, or even Mr. Solomon, since he said he would be stopping by every once in a while for 'supplies'. The voice was pretty muffled, though, so I can't think back and try to decipher it. My eyes fly open and my mouth drops.

Bex.

"What the bloody hell are you _doing_?" she demands, yanking me away from Zach as she wheels to face him. Grant, who stands in the doorway, looks just as dumbfounded as he twists his hands, putting them together and apart every once in a while as if trying to comprehend me and Zach together.

"Do you think this is funny?" she asks Zach, eyes raging. "Kissing her is just...I thought you were above this, Goode. Taking advantage of Cammie is just completely unacceptable. Go away. And stay away."

Zach looks back and forth between Bex and I, waiting for me to come to his defense, but I just burst into fits of laughter.

All three of them look at me funnily, like I've totally lost it. Maybe I have, but this is just ridiculous. I wipe tears from my eyes and hug Bex.

"Ah, it's glad to see you, Bex. I'm glad to know you care about me so much. However, Zach didn't force me to do anything. I actually kissed him first," I admit, grinning into Bex's shoulder. "And what are you doing here, anyways?"

Bex pulls away and grips me by my shoulders. "I was in England—"

"With Grant?" I ask, pursing my lips in attempt not to smile.

She glares at me, but continues to explain. "And my parents got called on a classified mission. That, my dear Cammie, is beside the point. Have you lost your mind?" she yells, shaking me. I grin and shake my head.

"No, but we were all thinking the same question when you told us you like Grant," I input slyly, totally violating Rule 1, but not caring as Grant smirks, Bex gasps in horror, and Zach says something about stealing a smirk. I guess that's true, since, when we're around others, he tends to smirk. A lot.

"Cammie!" Bex hisses, slapping my arm (_hard_), her light brown eyes boiling. I stand there, crossing my arms and leaning back on one hip.

"It would've happened sometime," I point out, taking Zach's hand and running back up to the entrance where the sun is rather bright now. "Why not give you the entire break to enjoy it?" I ask, clapping Grant on the back as Zach and I run out to the front doors and try not to stumble from our laughter.

"That, Gallagher Girl," Zach sighs inbetween laughs, "is why you are a Gallagher Girl. When you are captured one day, you will give them a half-answer and escape."

I smile at his quazi-compliment and wrap my arms around him a second time, pushing him against the wall of the front corridor and tilting up on the balls of my feet. I lean in and my lips press to his gently. Zach picks me up and turns us over so that I am the one against the wall now, like I was by the cave two weeks ago. He intensifies the kiss, pulling me closer. As my back leaves the wall, I bring my arms around his neck and run my hands through his hair.

I pull away after two minutes and thirty-one seconds to breathe. Zach gasps for air, pressing his forehead against mine, letting my back rest against the wall again.

"Cammie," he starts breathlessly, "you have got to stop doing that."

I bring the back of my head against the wall as well and look at him seriously. "Stop doing what?"

He groans and backs up a bit, leaving me cold and utterly confused. I frown at him and cross my arms to keep off the chill of the stone wall behind me, remembering how I left my jacket and all of my Christmas gifts in the rail cart.

"Stop doing what?" Zach asks rhetorically, stepping a bit closer to me as I look at him curiously. "You've got to stop being so smart and pretty and desirable."

My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline while he comes a bit closer, dragging his fingertips down my arm. I shiver uncontrollably at the goosebumps that trail after his touch, but soon forget them because he's kissing me for the third time today.

I don't have time to get into it, though, because a very Grant-like voice from the doorway shouts, "Get a damn room already! You've traumatized us once today and I don't think we can take it again."

Zach pulls away, but his arms are still wrapped around me while I look to Bex and Grant, answering, "Oh, Grant. We all know what you and Bex were doing down there while we were gone." I wink at them and Bex blushes a very vivid red while Grant decides to shrug and reply, "True."

Bex hits Grant with the back of her hand, and from the looks of it, that _hurt_. But I just ask, "So, Bex. What's going on with you?"

When she doesn't answer in what I assume is a furious silence, Grant protectively wraps his arm around her waist much like Zach is to me. Zach smirks, surprise, surprise, and I grin at the fact that Bex finally broke ground. Mainly because she is too scared to come out and say how she feels, her hints having no effect on Grant anyways, but also because Grant is a complete idiot. I honestly don't know how on earth somewhere inside of him he has a spy mode.

"She is just fine, despite the fact her friend broke Rule One," I answer myself, Bex nodding to my assumption. I smile apologetically, but motion to Grant and give her a disbelieving look.

"I know, right?" she asks, totally sounding like a normal teenage girl. I'm kind of glad, though, because she is just totally impossible to talk to when she is in her I'm-the-best-fighter-here-so-you-better-not-mess-w ith-me mode.

"Well," a small, southern voice starts from the back of the doorway, "what do we have here?"

I start laughing at our predicament and the fact that Liz is jumping into this, too. "Liz, what are you doing here?"

"Well, _I_ was called here for a mission, along with Jonas, apparently," the petite blonde states from the doorway, glancing behind her. "The logical question, however, is what are _you_ doing here?"

"I told you I was spending break here with Za—"

She interrupts me with an exasperated voice, "I know what you're _doing_ here, I meant aren't you supposed to know about this too?"

"Yeah," Jonas chimes in from behind Liz. "We're only the techies."

"First," Bex sighs, "come in. It's freezing. That railway is too cold, by the way, Cam. And I'm here for a mission with Grant, Jonas, Liz, Cammie, and Zach. Your mom told me to get you, that's why I was there. Don't you know about it, too?"

"No," Zach replies, it sounding more like a question.

"Students," Joe starts, standing outside the Headmistress's office, "I would love to hear about how all of you got here, but you can play catch up at the hotel."

"Which hotel?" Grant asks.

I shake my head, shrugging out of Zach's arms, despite his disappointed look, and placing a hand on my hip. "No, the question is: Hotel where?"

**A/N: There. Enjoy. And please REVIEW because every last comment makes my day and makes me want to write more. I love to hear your opinion.**


	21. Chapter 21: Enjoy hell

"That, Ms. Morgan, is an excellent question. However, the answer is classified. In ten minutes, I want all six of you back here with a packed carry on bag and dressed like normal teenagers because your flight leaves in an hour," Solomon explains, slowly descending the left twin staircase.

Bex grabs me and Liz without warning and—very painfully, I might add—jerks us up the smaller steps to the girl's dorm wing. I, at least, am able to slow down a bit and resist Bex's pull somewhat, but Liz is hopeless. She's fluttering like a flag in the wind.

"Bex! Slow down a bit," I protest, laughing as we enter our dorm. She throws a bunch of clothes around, searching frantically for appropriate outfits and such while I just sit on my bed with a pre-packed suitcase beside me. After all, a spy's always got to be prepared.

As I watch Bex go around, I think back to when we truly became friends. What really sealed our friendship.

"_Hey, Cammie?" Bex asks from beside me a couple of feet. Her caramel hair blows gracefully in the wind, framing her face perfectly and accenting the beautiful flowing beige cardigan she wears. It's November, so it is cold, and Saturdays don't have uniforms. _

"_Yeah, sure, Bex. What do you need?" I ask, patting the ground beside me. She sits against the tree like me, but she is facing the gate of the Gallagher Academy instead of looking out onto the lake, like me._

"_We need to talk," she admits. I'm glad she can't see my face because I am probably looking pretty nervous. Did I do something wrong? I've been trying to act more relaxed around my roommates lately for the simple fact that we share four walls, but maybe I came across as condescending..._

"_Okay," I start uneasily, "what do you need to talk about?"_

_She takes a deep breath, and I'm wondering what she's thinking. "Why are you acting so much more reasonable around us? You're starting to act like a real person instead of a robot. Particularly when you're around Zach," she hints lightly. I brush it aside, though, as she continues, "But something just seems off, here. You were running so much in those first few days and now you seem more steady...but still on edge."_

_She scoots around a bit to look at me face to face. "And now you look so scared all the time. As if someone's going to descend upon us. If that's true, I'd like to know, but even if it is..._

"_You have us," she finishes firmly. "You have Mace, Nick, Grant, Liz, Jo, Zach, and me to depend on."_

_I raise my eyebrows quizzically. She is right. All I did was run. I'd felt like I couldn't stop at all. I did something stupid as a reaction to something very surprising and cried to Zach. It wasn't by choice, was the problem. I was used to change. All the time I had been on the run and training was me going through constant change. No stability. However the Gallgher Academy had brought change mixed with emotional confusion. _That _is what I wasn't used to._

_I was glad Bex was here. She could be a good friend. And those first few days I was here? I'd told Abby she didn't know why Matthew died. Obviously she knew about the crash, but she didn't know he had resorted to alcohol. I wasn't too clear, and that was my greatest strength. I confused so many people that I could simply disappear without a trace. It was time to start letting people know about my predicament with the family, but still no one should know..._

"_Thanks," I finally breathe. "I'm glad I have you all."_

_We sit there in silence for a few minutes, looking at the slight waves on the nearly frozen lake. Until Grant decided to yell, "British Bombshell!"_

_Bex growls at this. "I've _told_ him not to call me that. This better be good."_

"_Bex, let me take care of this," I say simply, dashing off to Grant. They both look surprised at my approach, but Grant just looks confused after a minute. I reach the other side of the lake and whisper to him, "You call her British Bombshell again and we'll make sure you never eat anything more than three meals a day. With as much food as us at every meal."_

_He scoffs and rolls his eyes. "I think I can handle that."_

"_Oh? Then could you handle never being around Bex again?" I ask maliciously. Grant's eyes widen with fear and I nod, smiling evilly. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head._

"_Okay. Then don't call her that," I explain simply, running back to Bex._

_She frowns with pride as she looks at me curiously. "What did you tell him?"_

"_That is he calls you British Bombshell again he'll get no food." I shrug and she winks a thank you at me._

Ah, the olden days. Eh, well. As we head back downstairs, I notice we are twenty-five seconds early and the boys haven't gotten here yet. That's...odd. They're usually earlier than we are.

Joe waltzes through the doorway with a suitcase of his own and frowns at his watch.

Zero seconds left.

The boys suddenly burst out of the door leading to the boys' dorms and are racing to us with Joe looking bored. That's never a good sign.

When they finally reach us, Joe states the obvious. "You're late."

"Aw, give them a break, Joe," I say jokingly. "It's just another example of us being better."

The three pout at us girls and I just shake my head mockingly. "Shame on you."

We climb into the van in silence, the boys giving us the cold shoulder, much to my pleasure. I need time to think over our possibilities of where we're going.

I ask Liz and she informed me that the greatest odds of our location were New York. Good. I can do New York. Then she informed me that the second greatest odds were in Vegas. That's bad.

The flight entails us being the only ones in first class, a very rude flight attendant who wouldn't let us store our bags in the compartments above, and me falling asleep as soon as we board. But I don't mind it at all until we land and the captain says, "Enjoy Las Vegas."

More like enjoy hell.

**A/N: What do you think? Good? Bad? Ha, twenty-one to win blackjack, twenty first chapter. That's not even relevant. Please review!**


	22. Chapter 22: Hiding is for amateurs

I was literally seething as we collected our bags from the compartments and tried to rush out. Joe was probably on a time schedule here, but I didn't know about it. Hence, it did not qualify.

I would have to confront Joe. I don't care how many secrets I would have to reveal, I simply cannot stay here. Too many people would recognize me.

"Gallagher Girl," Zach whispers in the cab we were in, driving to the hotel. It is so quiet that even the spies around us can't hear it. "What's going on? You're acting a bit off."

"Oh, so you're talking to me now?" I ask accusingly, not really meaning to sound harsh or angered with him. It's just that I'm so mad right now at Joe...

"Yeah, sorry about that. Not my idea," he explains. "But honestly, I can practically feel the rage coming off of you in waves. This isn't like you, Cammie."

"Just bad memories associated with Vegas is all. Not anything to do with you," I sigh tiredly. He keeps staring at me for a few more minutes, but I ignore him and stare out the window. After precisely three point one four minutes of staring, we pull up to the hotel we're supposedly staying at.

It's late at night, so lights are glowing everywhere. On the sign, from the inside, lighting the fountain in front of the hotel. Zach grabs my hand as I hold my bag in my other hand, refusing to let him carry it, and Solomon walks up to the reception desk.

"Yes, you can help me. I have a reservation under Straton. Yes, that's me. Thank you," he finishes with the receptionist, whose words I can't quite make out. Solomon turns around, keys in hand, and motions for us to follow him up the stairs in the back. We climb up six—_six—_flights of stairs before we apparently reach the hallway that houses our room.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Solomon begins sternly, turning around once we reach 617, "I am trusting you in this act. That choice is probably not the wisest, on my part, but I _am_ trusting you all to behave."

He glares at the boys, particularly Zach, before continuing, "And since I am doing so, here is the key to your room."

Solomon hands the key to me and finishes, "I am in the room across the hall. Again, probably not the wisest decision, but just so you know..."

Joe trails off and opens the door to 618, winking as he turns around, then closing it. Leaving six stunned teenagers in the hallway.

"Okay," I start, trying to break the awkward ice, since Joe isn't supposed to know about me and Zach anyways, "let's go."

I thrust the key into the lock and turn the handle, opening the door to a very spacious hotel room. It has two double beds to the far back left, a couch in front of the beds, and a television set in front of the paisley couch. Then a mini fridge sits beside the television a bit, a partial wall separating this from a love seat, a chest of drawers, and a door in the back that must lead to the bathroom. We all survey the scene until I spin the keys in my hand and start, "Say Liz, Jonas."

The two people in question look at me with reluctance at my mischievous tone. I finish, "How do you feel about sharing a bed?"

They both, Liz in particular, immediately flush a bright red. I grin at them and nod my head. "I'll take that as a yes."

I set my bag down by the doorway and rush to the door in the back which does lead to a very well-stocked bathroom. I finger comb my dishwater blonde hair and do my business before coming back out. Apparently, while I was gone, they discussed sleeping arrangements.

"So, Grant and I will share the other bed," Bex says firmly, nestling her head further into Grant's chest, "and Cammie and Zach will get the fold out couch."

Zach smirks, of course, and I shrug like it's no big deal. Which it isn't. But then I realize that I will be sleeping on the same mattress as him and I nearly blush at the thought of what he could try.

I shudder before announcing, "I'm going to talk to Joe. Be right back."

Exiting the room without another word, I quickly shut the door and tread over the Oriental carpet that lines the hallway before barging politely into Joe's quarters. Not knocking, naturally.

It looks about the same as ours, sans the love seat, and Joe is sitting on the couch, gazing at some files in manila folders. He doesn't seem disturbed at all by my entrance, but I have to disguise my shock as I see Aunt Abby lounging on one of the beds, doing the same.

"Hey, squirt," she greets me, again using my childhood nickname for me as she sits up, stretching. "What do ya need?"

"Actually," I begin, glaring at Solomon, "I came to speak to Joe."

He sighs and closes the folder in front of him. "Yes, Ms. Morgan. What can I do for you?"

I pull my hair back and make my voice nasal as I say, "Hi, I'm Madison Ace. What can I get for you?"

Joe's eyes widen at me doing my interpretation of a thirteen year old me. "What were you doing in Vegas three years ago? And at a bar?" he asks, surprised.

I roll my eyes and take my hair down, letting the natural waves tumble over my shoulders. "I was deep undercover as Damon's daughter, thank you very much, you knew that, and that mission nearly ended with me dead. Most of underground Vegas knows me, Solomon. I don't know how I am going to do whatever the hell this mission entails if someone even thinks they know me in the slightest. I was thirteen and not very smart. I let some of my real characteristics become my cover."

Abby lets out a breath she'd been holding and Joe shrugs. Seriously.

"Well, that, Ms. Morgan, is your problem. Act different! Besides, I have your covers here. You're not going as yourself, obviously," he tells me with a 'duh' tone. I roll my eyes and pick up the manila folder as he slides them to the other side of his couch, which is purple instead of beige.

"Would you mind telling me what the mission objective is?" I ask, hoping to a straight answer. Of course, I don't get one.

"The mission objective is to not fail. Now, if you will please excuse yourself, I'm sure your roommates are rather worried about your disappearance," he replies, basically telling me to get out.

"A simple 'You are dismissed' would suffice," I inform him tartly, exiting him room. Again, I cross the hall and enter the room, tossing the covers onto the coffee table in an effort to be dramatic.

"Covers," I say, changing my voice to my best Joe Solomon impression. "Define the word, Ms. Baxter."

"An agent's legend or supposed life, personality, and connections," she responds automatically before realizing that she wasn't supposed to literally answer the question. "Not funny, Cams."

"I beg to differ, Ms. Baxter," I reply, still using Joe's voice and general tone. "I think that was hysterical."

I say it all business-like, too, as if we were discussing pass-fail ratios. Zach snorts and Liz and Jonas even crack a small smile as they tap away on their laptops, assuming their role as self-labelled 'techies'.

"Honestly, though, those are our covers. He was so mysterious when I questioned him about the mission objective, though. I hate it when people are so cryptic."

I hear a snort...from under the bed. Glancing around, I see that all six of us are here in plain sight. So who is hiding?

We all freeze nervously, Liz and Jonas's fingertips poised to continue with whatever business it is that they're attending to, Bex and Grant looking around frantically with only their eyes, bodies still turned towards the television.

Zach is the first to stand up and look under the bed. "Macey, Nick, you can come out now."

I exhale as I hear him say that, relieved we don't have to knock anyone out...yet. They come out, Nick grumbling on about how Macey is too easy to laugh.

"Cammie, that is such a hypocritical statement that I don't even know where to start," Macey says seriously, brushing lint and carpet fuzz off of her designer jacket. "Anyways, we're here to join you. We were already in Vegas, so Joe decided for you to join us here in the first place. We just thought it would be fun to hide."

"Hiding is for amateurs," I explain nonchalantly, shrugging my shoulders as I kick off my shoes and put my hair in a messy bun—a real one, not a fashionable one—before flopping down on the other bed that Grant and Bex will use and picking out the covers for us eight.

_Name: Joyce Brown_

_Age: 19_

_Here on vacation with her boyfriend, Eric Price (Zachary Goode), and her friends: Delilah Harp (Rebecca Baxter), Joel Greensburg (Grant Newman), Nellie Turpin (Elizabeth Sutton), Harold Meyers (Jonas Anderson), Greta von Tulette (Macey McHenry), and William (Will) Graceman (Nicholas Dreyers). _**(Haha, ice cream. Yum.)**

_Personality: Confident and quick-witted, values loyalty and makes decisions based on personal judgement rather than what the group would benefit from most._

_Likes: Clothing stores, cultural landmarks, and diet beverages._

_Dislikes: Action movies, blood/gore, and seafood._

_Notes: Act like a girlfriend, Ms. Morgan. I know you and Zach don't particularly favor each other, but suck it up and live out your legend._

I sigh and chuckle at the last part, but shudder to think about what I'm going to have to do to live about my likes/dislikes. I'm going to have to act squeamish, look like I starve myself with diet drinks, and...ask for fashion advice from Macey.

"Greta," I call with an air of disgust, "I'm going to need your help."

"Who's Greta?" the other seven collectively ask, none of them having touched their covers yet.

"Macey," I explain. "But that can wait for later. Right now I am hungry, so I think I should order room service or something, because it looks like you all are too pale besides."

They all nod and I order a few meals for us all to share while Zach looks over his cover.

"I'm going to kill Joe," he growls, tossing the paper back onto Grant and Bex's bed. I frown and get up, walking over to him.

"Why?" I ask, hugging him.

"I apparently like chick flicks," he grumbles.

I laugh a bit at this, but then keep quiet until he echoes, "I'm going to kill Joe."

"I'm sure you are," I mutter disbelievingly.

Zach pulls out of our embrace and asks, "What did you just say?"

"Nothing."

"That's what I thought."

"I'm sure you did."

"Cammie!"

"Zach!" I reply, using the same frustrated tone he is. The other four that flew with us chuckle, Liz and Jonas gathering that we are together now, but Macey and Nick look at us confused.

"Shut the fridge," Macey gasps, looking at our intertwined hands.

I stifle a laugh, but can't resist replying, "The fridge isn't open, Mace."

She waves away my sarcastic comment and says, "There is no way on god's green earth you guys are together. How did _this_ happen?"

Macey looks over at Nick who looks just as bewildered and shocked. "I...I don't know," he replies, stuttering.

"Macey, this actually 'happened' about three weeks ago. I was really surprised you didn't notice those first couple of days. I was so nervous I could barely talk without my voice wavering around you three." I wave my hand between Bex, Liz, and Macey.

"What?" she exclaims, shooting forward and pulling me into the bathroom. "Tell me everything!"

I look around, giving her a small smile. "Mace, we're in a shower."

"Spill," Macey insists, giving me a 'go on' motion with her manicured nails.

I explain to her about the barn and then most of my thoughts regarding Zach. I tell about every touch since then, since she would know if I keep anything from her. The only thing I keep from her that I knew she wouldn't notice is when I skip over my promises to tell him about my family, since I never touch the subject.

I have a lot to explain to everyone, since I still left the killing in town hanging in the air, still left every time I left out of it. I have some serious explaining to do. I'm just not quite ready.

"Wow," is all Macey can come up with once I finish.

"Yeah, wow," I agree, fiddling with my hands, uncomfortable with the situation. "Can we go now? I'm hungry, still, and room service is probably here."

"Oh. Yeah," Macey decides after a minute, getting up from the shower floor we had sat down on and opening the frosted glass door a second time.

"Macey," I say too loudly, hoping to embarrass her a bit. "Are you sure you didn't do _it_ with Nick? Because it sounds like—"

"You can shut up now, Cameron," Macey cuts me off frantically, slapping me on the arm. I start laughing silently as we walk into the room.

"What on earth did you do?"

**A/N: Wow, I didn't plan for this chapter to be so long, but it is, so...tell me what ya think and REVIEW, please!**

**Also, holy sh** (Sorry, but it's what I said.) 200 reviews! Thank you all so much! I want you to know that I love every little comment you leave, every single word you spend time typing. Please continue encouraging me!  
**

**Reply to Guest:  
I wasn't offended at all by the one-word remark at all, I just wanted to contact you since you don't have a PM. I only did British spelling, not British slang, but that would be an interesting chapter...wouldn't be that different though. Anyways, just wanted to let you know.**


	23. Chapter 23: I can't lose you

**A/N: Okay! I finally got inspired! I'll ****underline**** the lines that got me started on it! Sorry for kind of leaving ya there, but...just READ AND PLEASE REVIEW!**

Joe's demanding question seems to reverberate throughout the room as Macey and I gape at the scene before us. The lamp that was on the side of Liz and Jonas's bed is tipped over and bent at an odd angle. Sheets and comforters are strewn across the floor and the back of the couch without pattern, and everyone except for one person seems to be groggily rising up from the floor.

Grant is sitting calmly on the couch eating a chicken leg.

"What the...?" I trail off, grabbing Zach by the hand and yanking him up from the carpet. Mace gets Nick and Bex while Zach gets Jonas and Liz. I walk over to Grant and say, "You know, if you wanted food that badly, I'm pretty sure they would've let you go first."

"Mr. Newman, the rest of us are going to go downstairs to eat while you _clean up this mess_," Joe orders, waving the rest of us out of this room. I quickly jump over the magazines spread like a flower and quickly take Zach's hand on the way down.

We all file into the elevator and Solomon says, "Ms. Morgan, I am very curious as to why you are holding Mr. Goode's hand."

I look at him, acting confused. "I'm sorry, sir, you must have me confused with someone else. I am Joyce Brown and this is my boyfriend Eric."

Zach smirks—surprise, surprise—and the others chuckle while Joe gives us a small smile. "I'm sorry for the confusion, Ms. Brown."

Yikes, that was close. I wasn't even acting on my cover when I did that. Nice thinking, Joyce.

We enter the downstairs, which has a dinner buffet laid out for us. I grab a few pieces of bread, some chicken, and a bit of waldorf salad, but I'm not too hungry. I zone out as the others have their own conversations, and Zach seems to be doing the same as I. _What if, on this mission, Zach gets hurt? If any of them get hurt, I have no idea what I'll do. I'm tired of my cover, I can't take being anything but Cammie anymore. I love them all too much to—_

_Hold the phone_, I think suddenly, love_? You love Zach?_

_Do I?_

_Um..._

_You didn't say no._

_I didn't say yes, either._

_Shut up._

"Come on, Cammie," Zach says, smiling at me, "let's go back upstairs. We've got to rest before tomorrow."

The room is spotless when we return, thanks to 'Mr. Newman'. While Macey is in the shower, Joe comes in with some news.

"I have to say, Ms. Morgan, you are doing very well at your cover," Joe compliments.

Bex snorts. "Wonder why that is."

He ignores her and says, "I want all of you well an rested for tomorrow. You will be doing some very physically challenging things as well as mental. Tomorrow you are taking down a drug ring. Simple op: get in, get out. Got it?"

We all nod and he exits. Macey comes out of the shower, and after we relay what Joe said to her, she announces, "Cammie, your turn to shower."

I get up and grab some pajamas **(That's the American spelling, right?)**before heading into the steaming hot shower. The warm water rolling over my shoulders and down my back releases all of my tension, and I can't help but let go of the dark thoughts I had earlier.

I get dressed in my soft gray pajamas and stroll into the main room, which seems outrageously cold compared to the bath. I hop onto the mattress that has been laid out, probably by Zach. He's already under the sheets, shirtless, I might add, claiming that he took a shower that morning. Which he did.

The lights go out in a short while after us just sitting there in our own thoughts. I lay there awkwardly, not sure if I should stay on my own side or talk to Zach for a little while.

"Gallagher Girl," Zach whispers. I turn to him and smile in my own small way.

"Hey," I whisper back, so quietly no one can hear me. "What's up?"

He takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around me. I gladly cuddle up to him, my nose touching his chest as I listen to his heartbeat. "Cammie, what if I lose you tomorrow?"

Oh, so I'm not the only one. I draw small circles on his stomach and look up at him after a while. I glance at him, trying to show him how I won't let him lose me. "Zach, you won't. You think I haven't been thinking the same about you? It's just a simple in and out op, but I'm nervous. They'll probably have guns, you could _die_," I emphasize fiercely.

Zach holds me tighter against him, and I retract into a little ball. Zach whispers, "Cammie, I know. I didn't enter this business without that knowledge. Then again, I didn't enter this business knowing I would meet you. But for you, Cammie, I won't die. I'll stay alive, okay?"

I let out a shaky breath and nod, not presented with another choice. "Okay, Zach. I believe you."

He puts a finger under my chin so I am forced to look at him. He crushes his lips to mine with a passion I've never felt before. A strong, warm feeling grows in my stomach and I kiss him back, bending my elbows in my thin gray top to grip his shoulders from behind. I try to get closer to him, if that is possible, and I move my arms again so they can snake around his neck and put my hands through his hair. Finally, he pulls away and brings me closer to him.

"Good night, Zach," I mumble.

He chuckles a bit and answers, "'Night, Gallagher Girl."

Zach gives me a last, light kiss that is just as meaningful as the one before and I fall asleep in his arms.

* * *

The next morning, I am woken up my a very grumpy Bex who threatens to pour ice water all over me again. I hop up immediately and, before Macey can do anything, comb my hair up into a sleek ponytail and dress myself in tight fitting clothing so I can go places without noise.

I'm tired, so I take a short nap before I am woken up by Zach so we can go downstairs into the van. I fall asleep on the way there, too, so when I finally have to get up, I get out and stretch.

Before I see the huge industrial building with lasers racing across the perimeters every few seconds. Then, suddenly, they shut down, probably thanks to Liz and Jonas, and Solomon sends us in.

I walk through the halls, only whispers coming through the comms as Zach, just as quietly, follows behind me.

"Where to, Bookworm?" I question as we stalk through the halls. Zach suddenly grabs me by the waist and pulls me into a closet as a laser sweeps just where my head was. "Thanks," I sigh, leaning into him for only a moment before reporting the laser issue.

Soon, they are shut down, too, and I leap out into the hallway to resume my pattern.

"Chameleon, there is a vent on the floor about five yards ahead on the right. I need you to climb through it into an elevator that is stationary right next to it," Liz instructs me.

"Why can't I just open the elevator?" I ask, quickly striding towards the panel in question.

She sighs and tells me, "Because if the elevator doors open down here, they'll sound an alarm. The offices are upstairs, so they don't have that sequence in action. Please don't question my knowledge."

"Fine," I say defensively. We crawl through the vent a few feet flawlessly. "Which floor?"

"Floor twelve," Liz answers. I push the button and at floor twelve, quickly exit the metal box. I stalk up the hallway a bit, in case anyone decides to use the elevator, and then put my hand to my ear.

"Where now, Bookworm?"

"Another vent, I'm afraid. One should be...well, right above you. Boost up through it and just crawl straight. There's only one direction to go. Once you do, open the vent and grab the iron rungs that are outside. You'll climb up and receive further instructions there."

Yikes, even for a mission, she's being blunt. Maybe I offended her more than I thought. Zach boosts me up and follows after me quickly, screwing the vent panel back in.

"You know, Cammie, somehow you still make crawling through vents sexy," Zach informs me, quite unnecessarily, by the way. I roll my eyes and keep scooting forward.

"We're on a mission, in case you forgot, and I guess we're blown, since Joe is over comms," I say nonchalantly, still moving.

"You could have told me that," he retorts.

"You, my dear Zachary, are a complete ass. You know that?" I ask, swiping spiderwebs out of the way. That gets me a few snorts over the comms. My feet push behind me as I reach forward to the next plate of the duct with sweaty palms. The metal creaks beneath me, and I pause cautiously, unsure of whether it's safe to go on.

In that silence, Zach decides to reply, "Is that so, Lady Cameron?"

He's smirking, I can tell he is. The comms crackle with laughter as I scoff and 'accidentally' kick him in the face. He mocks hurt as I continue on without a second thought, scraping by towards the vent at the end.

"Shut up, guys," Bex chastises, "we're on a mission."

Grant coughs something like 'Buzzkill' and the comms are filled with static when she slaps him. I roll my eyes and continue on towards the natural light that filters through the vent slots.

"You know, Gallagher Girl, I have to say that the view from here is rather pleasant," Zach teases. I roll over so that I am propped up on my elbows and can give him a proper glare.

"Someday, Zach, I'm going to slap that smirk right off your face and halfway across the world. If you want to keep your facial features intact, I suggest you _shut up_ immediately and help me get to this vent up ahead. Don't forget that once I'm out, Joe will murder you because he is also on comms," I remind him, turning back around and quickly scuttling towards the vent panel.

"Joe?" Macey asks rhetorically. "When did you start calling him by his first name?"

"When he became insufferably contrary to whatever I say," I grumble, frustrated at our maturity level, at this point. I hear Joe laugh in my ear and yet still manage to sound reprimanding. "And contrary to himself," I add.

Zach is pushing my feet forward, helping enormously, I might add. I quickly slide down the rest of the shaft and quickly remove the panel before grabbing onto the rungs that are above the panel. Being suspended seventy feet of ground and having to pull myself up a sheer building side is not something I particularly had on my 'To Do' list for winter break.

I grunt as I finally reach the top and heave over the gutter I shouldn't touch. Zach soon follows in suit and I hold his hand as I lay on the gritty gravel of the flat. Breathing heavily, I put my hand to my ear and ask, "Bookworm, we're up. Where is the control?"

"That silver-gray box about five feet to your right is where the general motherboard is. Pop the screen first," Liz directs, a distinct tapping resonating through her side of it. I take a deep breath before getting up and, with nimble fingers, remove the sheet of metal guarding the green circuit board lined with switches and levers.

"Okay, Bookworm. The screen has been successfully removed. What now?" I demand, waving Zach over to the electronic box.

"You're going to have to switch the red lever, third down on the right. Then, once I say 'All clear' I want you to push the bright blue button that will be glowing at the very bottom. After, have the Chameleon peel the circuit board off and just punch the black center. It should shut down, and then I can hack into their systems and put them into lock down. The CIA will then come to arrest all of the building's inhabitants," Liz rattles off.

"Alright." I switch the lever, as directed, and then Liz does some fumbling with a couple of computer keys.

"All clear," she informs us. Zach punches the bright button that is now glowing a bright alien blue. I strip off the green plastic and I smash in a big black center. I wait for Liz to say we accomplished the mission, but I never hear it.

What I do hear is sharp, piercing sirens.

**Please review! Also with ideas, since I have no idea where I'm going.**


	24. Chapter 24: Like I'll tell you

**A/N: WOW! I got a lot of great ideas. I got my main idea as a combination from kaitlin1198 and You-Just-Might, so thank you! The rest of you gave me excellent ideas as well, but they didn't particularly line up with how I wanted my plot to go. Thank you, still! You guys are so creative! I know a lot of you said you didn't want them to be captured and tortured, but I want them to be captured. However, they won't be tortured, because I don't like that, either. READ!**

I cover my ears momentarily before remembering, _This is a mission._ Zach grabs my hand and we quickly scale down the rungs all the way to the ground. Needless to say, that takes a while.

"Bookworm? What is going on?" I demand fiercely, running across the sandy dirt like my life depended on it. Which it just might. Static is the only response and I begin to panic, looking at Zach whose eyes are frantic.

My gaze sweeps from right to left, searching for the van. If it's still where we were dropped off, which I highly doubt, then we're going to have to run all the way around the building, but if they moved, then we're stuck like ducks in mud. "Zach, we're kind of stuck."

"I know," he replies tiredly. "Just keep on a sharp—"

Something like a needle hits me in the back of my neck and my eyesight gets blurry. I can't help but finish my previous thought as the world fades out, the last thing I see being Zach.

_This is a mission. And we failed._

* * *

Bright lights. Stainless steel beneath me. Pristine white walls. My eyes hone in on the slight texture of the walls, almost impossible to see, but very rough to the hand. Ropes bind my hands and ankles. My hair is tangled. I'm wearing a white t-shirt and jeans instead of the all black clothing I had adorned yesterday. Typical spy, you might call it, but the tight fitting clothing was helpful during the vent.

The vent.

Zach.

My head snaps up as the memories enter my mind like a lifted floodgate. Where did he go? Is he okay? Where am _I_? Am _I _okay? I don't know what day it is, what time it is, even where the room I am in is. The same industrial warehouse from yesterday? A beach house in Turkey?

My questions remain unanswered as a olive-skinned man with a black leather jacket and dark wash jeans enters a door that, despite my predicament, I can't help but admire. A sleek, white moving door that is very flat and shiny and appears to open to motion. Of course, it's probably locked from the outside.

"Hello. My name is Damon Ace," the man greets me, sticking out a hand. A pointless gesture, as my _hands are tied_. I squint at him, because he seems oddly familiar. I'm all out of sorts if I can't remember him immediately.

Damon. Where have I heard that name?

His black hair is greased back and he looks about two days unshaven. Other than that, he looks pretty fairly built. He doesn't seem starved or overweight. He seems pretty fit and healthy. Nothing seems odd except for two facts:

A) Well...I'm kind of tied to a chair. Does that not strike him as odd?

B) Damon...hmm.

"What is your name, miss?" he asks me, a slight Spanish accent running through his voice. Damon...Damon...

_Flashback_

"_Yo! Blondie!" a dark-haired man shouts from the pool table. I scurry over there, irritated already by my bright red lipstick that I'm afraid will get in my teeth, even though they're not technically mine, they're Madison Ace's._

"_Yes, sir?" I ask, pulling out a pad of yellow paper. "What can I get for you?"_

"_Margarita over ice, if you will, salt on the rim," he orders, slamming a ceramic globe with his cue. I nod and hurry back over to the bar to prepare his drink. I need to get back to the House as soon as possible. After this, my shift should be over. I chuckle at what the owner would say to learn that I'm thirteen, not twenty-two, like my ID says._

_I tip the green colored bottle over to pour the ice-clear liquid into an ombre glass of yellow and green, ice already resting at the bottom of the cup. I fill it up about 7/8 of the way before spreading a little sticky syrup around the rim and sprinkling salt over the edges, getting flakes all over the granite counter top._

_I bring the drink over to the man I'm sure I've seen in the CIA database before and ask, "Is there anything else...?" I trail off, asking him to fill in his name._

"_Joe Solomon. And no, thank you. I'll, er, _see_ you back later, right?" he asks, raising an eyebrow mysteriously. I nod in confirmation that I will be back at the House later. He's probably one of the CIA agents on commission for the take down of the drug ring Damon is part of. I'm working independently to get intel on them for the smaller group I was hired by:_

_The Circle of Cavan._

_But as soon as they get the CIA involved, I am _out_. I don't need to get mixed up with them just yet. Joe is probably going to get back to the house eventually, but it'll be late. I sigh and grab another Dr. Pepper from the fridge, not telling anyone of course. It'll be another all-nighter for me._

_I toss my apron into my locker and shut it with a bang before sauntering out of the casino. I shrug on my gray hoodie—black makes me look like a criminal. I am, but...no one needs to _know_ that. Checking for tails about every three seconds, I make my way down the twenty blocks to the House. Damon will be waiting, and his two o' clock check is is about thirty minutes. I have time to get back through my window and act like I'm asleep in time for when he'll check on his 'daughter'._

_I eventually make it back to the old brick building behind an abandoned apartment complex that went out of business a few years ago. I scale the fire escape and hurl myself through the skinny window I can barely fit through. Quickly, checking my internal clock—1:59 a.m—I throw back the covers, toss and turn like there's no tomorrow to mess up my hair and sheets, and relax one second before the door opens._

_The beam of light that enters from the opening door expands as I breath slowly and regularly, letting my stomach rise instead of my chest. Damon sighs, "Ah, mi pequeño querida.*"_

_Soon, he shuts the door and after ten minutes, I shoot up and change clothes into my tight black leggings and t-shirt. Now, I don't have to do black, because I have tight leggings and t-shirts in purple and pink, too, but it's not exactly covert to have pink over a vent grate._

_I unscrew the...well, screws to the air vent then heave myself up into the shaft with a bit of effort. I push against the right wall of the duct section I pulled myself up into and propel myself into the rest of the vent that goes to the left. I follow it a few feet before turning left again and settling myself in over the grate that is nailed over the kitchen. _

_Carefully, I scoot forward and try to decipher what they're saying. Voices waft up and I can tell it's Joe and Damon talking._

"_So, when are you going to get me my order, D?"_

"_Next week at the latest, I promise."_

"_That's what you said last week."_

"_I know, but this time I'm serious."_

"_Okay, but if you don't pay up I'm going to have to bring forces in."_

"_Got it, J, I got it."_

_So Joe Solomon has an order, does he? Probably not. Does the alias Jacob Solomon have an order? Oh yeah. Another man comes in once Joe leaves the room and they begin a conversation as well. My ponytail brushes the ceiling as I shift around in the vent and I shake my head as I try to listen again._

"_I'm telling you, Ace, that Solomon man is shaky. He don't look like someone we can trust."_

"_Please, Ren, he's just another customer. Another guy passing through. Another guy we'll murder."_

"_Right, but he's still unstable, I think, and if precau—"_

"_And if precautions aren't taken, we'll kill him anyways!"_

"_Ugh, Ace, you'll never get around in this business if you murder everyone."_

"_I have been for the past twenty years, Ren, and I will do it once more."_

_TWENTY YEARS? How many people has he murdered? How many souls have been taken at expense for Damon's pay? A shuffling in front of me causes my head to snap up immediately and I gasp in surprise, covering my mouth directly after._

"_Hey, kid," Joe greets me, not sounding tipsy at all. _

_My eyes widen and I uncover my mouth, which has curled into a smirk, and say, "Enjoy your drink?"_

"_Yeah, you do a good job," Joe chuckles. He gets up on his elbows, and I'm surprised he can fit in here at all. It's a tight fit for me, so I can't imagine what it's like for him. "You here for the CIA?"_

_I snort and shake my head. "No, but you are."_

"_Nice inference," he compliments me, not a single note of sarcasm in his voice though I can't assume he's serious. I glance down at my 'father' and his partner one more time before he continues, "So who _do_ you work for?"_

_I shake my head again. "Nice try, but no way am I telling you that."_

"_Yeah, I thought so, but it was worth a shot," he admits, cracking a small smile. "How old are you?"_

"_Thirteen," I mumble, looking down at my hands._

_Joe's eyebrows shoot up to his forehead and he gives me a warning look. "Watch your back, kid."_

"_Yeah, yeah. Heard that all from Abby," I mutter, listening to the rest of their conversation subconsciously. They don't really have anything too important to say, though._

"_Abby?" he asks disbelievingly._

_I nod. "Yeah." Does he know Abby?_

_He doesn't keep asking questions, though, as I continue to listen in._

"_So it'll be tomorrow, yeah?"_

"_Yeah. You get the bags, fill 'em with stones, then I'll talk a bit before you be the 'sniper' in this."_

"_Okay, Ace. See ya tomorrow."_

_I let out a breath of air before scooting back a bit. "I've got to get back, but just so you know, they're going to kill you tomorrow."_

_After shuffling back quietly, I drop back into my room and screw on the vent lid before turning around. To Damon._

Busted! _My mind screams, but I just put one arm over my other and wait for him to start._

"_Madison, what were you doing in that vent?" D asks quietly, glancing at my ruffled bed sheets. I shrug and pull my gray hoodie on with supplies for at least a week sewn into the pockets. He doesn't know that, though, so I'll think I'll break for it._

"_Exploring," I explain nonchalantly. Suddenly I'm pinned up against a wall, my air supply cut off. I breathe raggedly in cut gasps as he shoves me closer to the beige block._

"_Liar," he growls. "Who are you working for?"_

_I laugh abnormally, a cold, icy laugh, nevertheless. "Like I'll tell you."_

"_Fine. Die, see if I care," Damon threatens. _

_I smirk to the best of my ability, trying not to show the searing pain in my lungs. "Fine. I'll die."_

_He cocks his head to the side and flips out a knife I catch in my peripheral vision. He's about to take a stab when I whisper, "If you can catch me."_

_I knee him where the sun don't shine, him foolishly forgetting to pin my legs with his knees, and I jump out my still-open window onto the rusted plate of the fire escape, jetting down the steps like a rocket full of dynamite. I hear gunshots, but they just ricochet off of the brick walls lining the alley. I'm an easy target, the only moving thing in the very narrow alley._

_Skidding out in to late night Vegas traffic, I realize that I'm going to have to take at least a day or two to lose whatever tails they'll send after me before I even begin to jump towards the Circle HQ in Nevada. Catherine told me I had at least two weeks to gather what I could and get out. That's my deadline. I'm sure I can get there in five days. It will take about forty-two hours to get to Ash Springs, and I can walk around ten hours a day. _

_The first thing I do is slip into a clothing store and whip out the few hundred dollars in cash Catherine gave me for supplies, in addition to my pay. I grab a brown leather purse and shove my hoodie in there so I keep my food and water, but change into different attire. I grab a long sleeved purple silk top and some denim shorts. I pay for it all and hop over to the nearest corner store to grab some cheap hair dye and a few hair extensions with the same auburn color. After checking that out, I head to the bathroom to apply the dye and rinse it off into the sink with no top on, so not to ruin my clothing and hint it's altered._

_I shrug on my top after I tediously dry off my hair with hand tissues only, extracting a comb out of my jacket from my purse. After running the teeth through my newly colored hair, I quickly exchange my tights for the shorts and take a couple of hazel contacts out of my jacket as well before popping them in. I tuck the rest of all my gear and store it in the surprisingly roomy purse._

_Cameras don't bother me because I'll be far away by the time I'm done with this. To get there faster, I decide to take the bus instead of walk. What was I thinking by walking? Someone could come out and kidnap me at any moment on the road._

_I hop on the bus and see it will take about an hour and a half to get to Ash Springs, so I set an alarm and go to sleep._

**A/N: Oh my freaking gosh, I **_**had**_** to stop there. If I didn't I would have gone on too long. Longest chapter I've ever written - for any story! Anyways, very revealing chapter I have—about her past, anyways. It will still be in flashback mode when the next chapter starts, warning. Everything is coming together! I finally figured out how to mesh the pieces! Okay, kaitlin1198 I was writing and didn't realize it would go on so long, but don't worry. It'll be in the next chapter, promise.**

_**REVIEW!**_

***my little darling**


	25. Chapter 25: I love you

_I wake up to the sound of a shrieking beep in my ear and a rumbling of an engine. I turn off my alarm and open my eyes groggily. Stretching, I glance at the glowing yellow sign in the very early morning. It reads: Next stop, Ash Springs, NV._

_I check my contacts in my pocket mirror and twist them around a bit until I think they look natural before reaching into my purse again and peeling open a dried fruit strip from my jacket. While devouring it, I look around. No one seems to have followed me. GOOD. I have to face Catherine two weeks early. BAD._

_Catherine will eat me alive unless my intel is good. Unless my intel is _goode_. What can I do, besides? I can't abandon the mission, that's likely to get me killed. I'm probably going to get killed anyways, but this way I at least tried._

_I quickly step out of the bus and walk a few miles east to the HQ of the Circle of Cavan. The dust around the glossy high-rise across the road from a fifties-style diner swirls and tumbles around the edge in the wind. I approach the flat screen next to the door and tap the awake button._

"_Cameron Morgan," I speak clearly into the monitor. After a few seconds of processing, I am granted entrance to the sleek marble halls with dark granite walls. Several people pass me, but I am not spared a second glance as I make my way towards Catherine Goode's office. That's one of the highlights of working for this place, and also one of it's weaknesses. If you got in, you're surely supposed to be attending to your own business, right? People never question what you're doing or who you are, they just assume that if you're here, you obviously should be._

_The door is concealed at the end of the hallway, only able to be opened by a fingerprint scanner. If it works, that is. I put my finger pads against the wall and relish the bit of heat that comes from the scanner, a relief in the cold February atmosphere. The silken wall slides open flawlessly to reveal a small mound of paperwork to my left on a mahogany desk. _

_Pens line the edge of the top of the desk, files strewn across in neat piles. A printer and laptop sit confortably to the side where no one from my perspective can read and many official-looking degrees glisten underneath the glass that covers them on the walls. The only real one, I assume, is the one that reads: GALLAGHER ACADEMY FOR EXCEPTIONAL YOUNG WOMEN_

_ CATHERINE GOODE, ADVANCED GRADUATE_

_Yet, all of that is about the room. What you don't know is the person sitting behind the mahogany desk with neatly strewn files and piles of paperwork surrounded by official-looking degrees. Her long, red hair cascading down her back messily and her expression completely smooth as she stares at me serenely. For now._

"_Ah, Cameron," she greets me neutrally, "I was expecting you."_

_I incline my head, but don't give any other sign of acknowledgement. She scoots her chair back and gets up, toying with the frame on one of the glass cases that line the wall. "You're early, though."_

_Catherine stalks slowly over toward me as I stand still at attention, trying not to flinch as her long, cold fingers brush over my cheek forcefully. "Dear Cameron, please tell why you are back so quickly."_

_I stare ahead at a certificate for 'Best in Show' for some kind of shooting event and explain, "I was made, so I ran and lost all tails before coming here. I got the intel, though. The file of every drug Damon Ace ever bought and resold is right here."_

_I point to my purse and take out the manila folder to give to Catherine. She snatches it out of my grasp and ruffles through it quickly, checking to see if the facts look right. She hands me a couple hundred dollar bills and I tuck them into my pocket securely._

"_Not bad, Morgan," she admits, shoving the folder into the drawer on the right, third down, "but how _goode_ are you?"_

"_I'm sorry, ma'am," I manage to choke after a moment, "I don't know what you're leading on to."_

"_I mean, how _goode_ are you?" she asks again, acting frustrated. "What can you do? Do you have a specialty? What are your connections?"_

"_Well, I can blend in pretty well," I offer up, making it sounding kind of like a question._

_She laughs lightly and smiles frostily. "Sweetheart, you're one of the best pavement artists I've ever seen. Just like your daddy."_

_I freeze, but don't interrupt as she continues, "Your mother, too, is one of the greatest spies to ever live. Not as goode as me, but almost. The reason I ask you this, Cameron, is because...well, I don't hire people for a couple of ops here and there. I hire them because they can give me profit."_

"_Profit," I repeat stupidly, rolling the word through my head and finding the dictionary definition in the split second it takes for her to start again._

"_Yes, dear, _profit_. Now, tell me what you know about Joe Solomon," she orders, a sweet sugarcoat over her true desire to know more._

"_Who?" I lie smoothly, glancing at the certificate, still not making eye contact._

_She wheels around to face me, between the desk and I, and says, "_Joe Solomon_. Who is he?"_

"_I don't know," I tell her._

"_Liar."_

"_No."_

"_I know a lie when I see one."_

"_Maybe you should rethink that."_

_Catherine slaps me so hard I see stars across my vision for at least a full minute. She leans close and whispers carefully, "No one tells me to rethink anything, sweetheart. Got that? Now, who is Joe Solomon?"_

"_I don't know!" I insist, squirming under her vice-like grip on my upper arms._

"_Zachary!" she calls loudly._

_A young man with dark hair about my age steps through. He has the same green eyes as Catherine, the same defined jawbone and eye ridge. He looks very serious and loyal as he answers, "Yes, mother?"_

"_Zachary, this girl thinks I can't tell a truth from a lie. We all know how goode I am at _that_ game," she snarls, digging her fingernails into my arm. "I think we should teach her a lesson."_

"_Do you now?" Zachary asks, voice full of sincere surprise, but his face looking like a robot's. _

_She grins coldly and says, "Yes. Lesson number three, I think. Twelve times should do it, if not less."_

_I raise my eyebrows as he walks out and Zachary pulls something long and coiled out of the cupboard beneath the 'Interpol Acceptance' letter and turns around slowly as Catherine grins maniacally from the corner. He kicks out my knees and I fall to the ground while he yanks up my shirt above my bra-line. My cheeks flame involuntarily, but I forget all about that embarrassment a few seconds later when something hard and sharp lashes across my back._

_A trail of fire seems to run across my back as I struggle to keep my mouth shut and my face even. I have trouble forgetting the pain as he strikes me again at the peak of pain from the first. I nearly bite through my lip, but keep silent as I slowly edge my foot around and sweep under him._

_Zachary falls unexpectedly and I just run._

_Go._

_Leave._

_Catherine's shouts and footsteps of people after me ring in my ears long after I finish that mission._

_Like today._

_Flashback over_

"Damon Ace," I whisper under my breath before snapping my head back up to him sharply. "You're Damon Ace."

He looks shocked at my realization but merely smiles a forced smile and replies, "Yes, dear. I am. Who are you?"

"How's business lately?" I question, seemingly out of the blue. He chuckles, turning around a bit. D lingers on his feet for a few moments before he knocks my chair back with a single kick. I luckily am spared the initial impact since the steel back is there behind me, but my hands are smashed and the air is knocked right out of my lungs as he swoops over me like a bat.

"Who are you and what do you know?" he growls menacingly over my gasping form. I shake my head and breathe a bit before I finally regain control over my body. That is, as much control as you can have when you're tied to a chair.

"I'm Madison Ace. I don't want to know anything!" I say quickly, sticking to my cover until the end.

His expression softens and he pulls me back up before untying me. I act like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar as I rub my wrists defensively and pout a little. "Maddie, what are you doing back already? I thought you were in Suffolk."

I walk a little closer to him, acting uncertain. "Well, I was, but then something went wrong with the flight and we had to turn back." I crawl a little closer. "So I decid—"

Cutting myself off, I quickly kick him in the side and twist his arm simultaneously so I can pin him to the floor with my knee on his back. Damon crumples to the ground and I slap a Napotine patch that I—very cleverly—stole from his jacket on the back of his neck. He slumps in my arms immediately and I throw him to the side, not strong enough to hold his weight.

_The door. You've got to get through the door. He has a key_, I realize. Quickly, I flip him over and search through his jacket until I find a blank, white, plastic card in the second to the back on his right wing. I look around for a slot desperately until I look at the middle of the door. It's open just a fraction of an inch. Just enough to put a card through.

I slide the card through and it rapidly flies open like before. After jumping through, I put my hand to my ear, realizing the comms are still there.

"Bookworm?" I demand loudly, not caring if there are other people. No one is in sight and the front door is right and front of me. "Bookworm, it's Chameleon. I'm out."

The front door is glass and it slides open perfectly, letting me break into a full out run until I hit the forest on the edge of the perimeter. "Bookworm, I'm here. Can you hear me? I'm out."

My pace becomes frantic as I keep running north, a gut feeling racing through my bones, telling me that I should go back to the hotel. Slow and steady wins the race.

Peddling out into a steady jog, I think back to my **(ridiculously long) **flashback. It was Zach, it was Zach, it was Zach. How could I not have remembered? He must not have either, or decided to ignore it entirely, but he was working for her then. Is he still?

No. He would have me dead by now if that was the case. He might have been a double agent at that age, too. So maybe he wasn't really working for her. Just maybe.

Though I'm not working for the Circle anymore—a nearly impossible thing to do. And I only say nearly because I'm the only one I know who's done it—they still are looking for me. Does this mean Zach's looking for me? He's either the world's best actor or the world's craziest person, because I don't know how he could possibly try and balance a Circle of Cavan job—one that's main focus, might I remind you, is to capture _me—_with...er, dating (?) me. I'm not really sure what we are.

That kiss yesterday (I assume I've only been out for a couple of hours) was so...passionate and loving that we're definitely not friends. Okay? That wasn't a 'let's see if this works' fling. But are we just dating or officially boyfriend/girlfriend?

What on earth am I doing? I'm thinking about my relationship with Zach when I should be working out two things:

A) how to get to the hotel

B) Zach and I three years ago

He whipped me. That is a new found realization I can live without. Unfortunately, I'm a spy, so I can't forget it, but also, I'm a spy, so I must pick apart all reason. Did he whip me because, at that point, he was simply following the rules of being a double agent and carrying out directions from his leader? Or was it because, at that point, he was truly cold.

I can't imagine Zach having the icy blood that runs through Catherine's veins. It's not his fault she's his mother, and that's another imminent conversation we'll have to have in addition to:

1. Killing the guy in town

2. Why I ran those first days

3. Explaining my situation—past.

I shake my head roughly and pick up the pace. I can sort things out when I'm lying in bed late at night instead of now.

That is, assuming I get to wake up to see another day.

* * *

This hotel is _way _too far away from our mission point. What was Solomon thinking by putting us there?

I trudge inside after about seven hours of running through the woods and Vegas city streets, exhausted and wanting to fall asleep immediately. Of course, that can't happen until I find the gang and Solomon and Abby.

Elevator. I'll take the elevator. I press the button feebly, spots clouding my vision as I try to breath deeply. Head rush!

The doors open and I press the button that reads: FLOOR 6. I slump against the elevator wall as I wait for it to finish it's ascent. I probably look horrible. Sweaty, tangled hair, exhausted, you get the picture. What am I going to tell them?

The door opens. I trudge to our rooms and knock on the door, wondering if they're even here at all. The oak wood painted tan slowly opens to reveal a sleepy, irritated, and seemingly dead Zach.

"Cammie!" he exclaims, eyes visibly lighting up a bit as he says that. He tackles me in a hug, which I gratefully collapse into, tired beyond belief as my eyelids seem to close involuntarily. Zach kisses me lightly in the doorway and I reciprocate as much as I can, but I'm dead on my feet.

"Well, I didn't see that coming," Solomon offers softly, Abby and the rest just grinning like idiots.

Zach holds me tighter to him, snapping at anyone who tries to come near me.

"Cammie, I'm so glad you're okay." That's what everyone seems to be saying, but the only person I hear is Zach. He laughs a bit, breathless, "Cammie, you have no idea how worried I was. Never do that to me again."

Ten seconds.

I black out for ten seconds, my body literally shutting down and forcing me to take a micro sleep. Faces blur before me and I'm lucky I can remember the name attached to them.

Bex, Liz, Nick, Grant, Macey, Jonas, Abby, Solomon.

Zach.

He lowers me onto a soft bed that smells like laundry detergent and I close my eyes, welcoming sleep with open arms and heart. The last thing I hear before I completely go under is:

"I love you."

**A/N: Yes! Wow, I am updating quick. Micro sleeps are actually a real, scientific thing. You get to know these terms if you're an insomniac. I've been having them all day, I'm so tired. My gosh.**

**Anyways, big news. This story is probably going to wrap up soon. I DON'T WANT TO STOP WRITING ABOUT THIS SCENARIO! So, I'm putting up a poll on whether or not to make a sequel. Please vote, all of you, because I don't want to waste my time writing if you don't and I don't want to ignore it if you do. So, vote. I'll have it up until July 10****th****, 2013, and then I'll post the next chapter. Sorry for the delay. Anyways, if the vote is positive, I shall then set up a poll with names for sequel! If not, well, I think you know.**

**REVIEW!**


	26. Chapter 26: Her heart rate is picking up

**A/N: Okay, so every vote I got (and anonymous review) was positive on a sequel. One reviewer (I am Nikita Daughter of Apollo) even threatened to somehow hunt me down! Don't worry! It shouldn't be quite as rocky as this story is at first because I have an outline. REVIEW WITH SEQUEL NAMES!**

I rise into consciousness slowly. It feels like a soft, warm blanket enveloping me, and I try to slip back under, but it won't let me. I frown slightly and keep my eyes closed in the persistent hope I can go to sleep again because, despite the feeling I have been resting for a long while, I feel so tired. My eyelids flutter a bit as I struggle to keep them closed, but I am too curious about what they're saying to try hard.

"She only..."

"...not broken, fractured." anonymous

"A miracle that she survived in..."

"You haven't seen her at her worst."

That voice sounds the most familiar. It's low, like a guy's, and it sounds warm, like my sleep blanket. I sigh in content as I feel peace just lying here unnoticed. The words become clearer and sentences stop fading out so much as I feel the cool air course through my lungs.

"Rachel needs to know, I mean she only got her back about a month or so..."

"A month and a half is plenty enough time for Cammie to see that she doesn't want anything to do with her! She's angry, as much as she tries to hide it. You heard her yelling in her sleep."

Cammie. That also sounds familiar...

"Guys, her heart rate is picking up!"

"Really?"

"Liz, show me."

"Get out of the way!" the familiar voice yells, and some shuffling follows. Everyone starts gasping with joy as Cammie's—whoever that is—heart rate increases pace. The beeping from a monitor becomes louder and more distinct with every passing second. Cammie. I'm Cammie.

I review facts in my head, somehow knowing that I've had a traumatic experience and that's what you're supposed to do.

My name is Cameron Ann Morgan, daughter of Rachel Morgan and Matthew Morgan. Sibling of Ethan Morgan, Miakota Morgan, and Raina Morgan. Girlfriend of Zachary Goode. I am sixteen years old, my birthday is January twenty-third, and I am a teenage spy.

My eyes fly open and I bolt upright in my seat, the beeping getting even louder and closer together as I do. A couch is in front of me and a bed is next to that couch, though it looks like it should be beside me. Instead, there is a desk with a computer and extra monitor with my heart rate on it. A lamp is next to me, turned on, and I am in a bed myself. A television is in front of the couch and it is turned on with low volume. Six or seven people crowd around the desk while two others are sitting in a loveseat catty-corner to the couch. I look to my left and see a mirror on a wall.

My face is thin, pale, and looks like it has a few scars here and there. My hair is a dirty blonde, but it is surprisingly untangled and sleek in waves down my back. My eyes are a bright hazel that looks unnatural, but with a few seconds they turn to a pretty sky blue. Why is that?

"Cammie!" Zach shouts, unnecessarily loud, I might add. I grin at the sight of him, my skin stretching uncomfortably tight to make my smile. He skirts around the corners of the bed expertly before crushing me into a bear hug. I close my eyes momentarily and relax. He feels like the warm blanket.

The other six people around the table smile like maniacs, but stay still, hesitantly glancing at me. Bex, Liz, Macey, Nick, Jonas, Grant. Duchess, Bookworm, Peacock, Carnival, Computer, Hercules. **(This was the most ridiculous thing that came to mind...so of course I had to put it here.)**

The two others on the other side of the room are Joe Solomon and Abby Cameron. My CoveOps teacher and aunt. I look down and see that my arms are unhealthily frail and thin, as is the rest of me. I feel very fragile, all of a sudden before I look back to Zach.

His eyes are a glowing bright green that kind of alarms me, but I think he's just excited. He is smiling like there's no tomorrow, which is weird, but I ignore it, and bury my head into his chest. He smells like soap and home.

That gets me awake real quick. Shouldn't home be my family?

"Cammie!" Bex explains, tackling me in a hug in addition to Zach. Macey, Liz, and the boys soon copy and don't let go for about seven minutes. I inhale and exhale, savoring the peace of being enveloped by friends and...family? I don't know, that can wait until later.

"Are you going to let me hug my niece or not?" Abby demands, smiling at our embrace. I grin, skin again feeling tight. Abby gently wraps her arms around me in reassurance, I think, and whispers, "Glad you're alive, squirt."

"Me too," I chuckle, startled by my scratchy voice. Jonas hands me a glass of water and I chug it down quickly, clearing my throat before speaking in my normal voice, "Hey, guys."

Everyone laughs, but Solomon interrupts uncomfortably, "We've got to get back to Gallagher now that Cammie is awake. The McHenry jet is ready for us to board immediately. Time for you all to get back to normal."

"Wait," I interject, confused. "We still have, like, a week of break left."

Zach sucks in his breath while the others glance around nervously. I frown and try to shrug out of Zach's arms a bit, but he is holding me like an iron vice. Rolling my eyes, I look to Solomon for help.

"Cammie, you were out for nearly a week."

Silence is so loud in that moment, I swear my eardrums are about to burst. Zach kisses my forehead but even that can't make me feel better about the situation. One week. One weeks of my life I'll never know. One week of my life I'll never get back.

It shouldn't be such a big deal, but when you're a spy, you live for the moment and you can't miss things or you slip up with unknown information. Like how Zach got here. He must have just gotten away in time.

"Let's go," Bex suggests quietly, motioning to the suitcases at her feet. I nod slowly, reeling from the time loss and quickly changing into yoga clothes that Macey, for once, doesn't argue with. The cab ride to the private airport is silent. And I mean dead silent, like, I couldn't even hear everyone's breathing. And I'm a spy!

Once we board the jet, however, everyone seems to break off into couples—even Solomon and Abby, ugh—and chats it up. Zach and I take a seat at the very back. He plays with my fingers as I lean against him, plane beginning to ascend.

"So, Gallagher Girl," Zach begins, voice cracking on my nickname at several points. "What—"

I put my finger to his lips, cutting him off gently. I turn to him and say, "I'm glad to see you."

"Cammie," Zach breathes, laughing, "I'm glad to see you too. More than you could ever know."

He says that last part really quiet and tender, holding me closer like I'll suddenly evaporate from his arms and never come back. Then I realize that is pretty much what I did.

"What do you want to do when you get back?" Zach asks, voice slightly muffled by my hair. I snort and look around the plane. Bex and Grant are debating whether Jason Bourne or James Bond is better, Liz and Jonas are telling each other the story of how they learned to hack, and Macey is having a one-sided conversation about the new fashions in Britain. Joe and Abby are looking at some files—probably directly from Langley—very absorbed in their own worlds. I have no idea.

"No idea," I say, voicing my thought. "Just try and get back to normal."

"Okay," Zach replies, not pointing out how 'normal' is never a thing if you're basing the regulations on the average American family, and that it's all a relative thing besides. He doesn't point out that, as spies, normal isn't existent in any way, shape, or form. He just says 'Okay'. And somehow, that's the best thing I've ever heard him say.

"Did you actually say it?" I blurt, mentally cursing myself a millisecond after I finish my sentence. If he says no, I'll be embarrassed anyways, but if he says yes he'll probably laugh at me because I had to ask. Of course, it's all too late, now.

"Say what?" Zach inquires, running his index finger from the tip of my fourth finger up to my shoulder. I try to think of an excuse, but nothing pops into my head.

"Say you love me," I whisper, turning into him a bit more as my cheeks flame a deep cherry red. Zach chuckles—see?—and distances himself. I pout mockingly, but he tilts my head up to kiss me. He breaks away far too quick for my liking, but apparently it's because he actually has something to say.

"Depends," he tells me mysteriously after a minute of silence. I roll my eyes and sigh. Should've known better than to expect a straight 'yes' or 'no' from him.

But then he kisses me again.

* * *

Dinner is going on per usual at the Gallagher Academy. Girls and boys are laughing and chatting eagerly about their day, eating food in between sentences and subjects. Of course, these conversations are in Hindi and the food they're eating is cooked by a five-star gourmet chef, but if you set that aside, it almost seems normal for a boarding school.

However, when we open the doors to the Dining Hall, all of that conversation and eating stops. Every single person and object in that hall goes completely and utterly silent. I suppose I look different. Paler, thinner, less invisible, but no one should honestly stare that much. As I look up towards the staff table, Rachel is staring at me with her mouth open.

I remember the muffled exchange before I woke up; they were talking about how Rachel didn't know. Then again, they were also saying how angry I was at her.

"So, Cammie," Tina starts, breaking the silence, "is it true that you were undercover as a government agent and you had to disable a bomb before it blew up the White House?"

"Why would I do that?" I ask rhetorically, striding to an empty seat at the very edge of the room, the entire school watching our exchange. I've been invisible most of the time, a very handy thing on anonymous ops, but right now I couldn't feel more in the spotlight.

"Then were you and Zach getting married?" Tina wonders idiotically. I suddenly stop and wheel around to her. She looks expectant, Zach seems like he's about to pass out from trying not to laugh, and the rest of the school seems too invested in our conversation.

"No, Tina, what on earth gives you that impression?" I inquire sincerely. I mean it. How does she gather that from the eight of us coming in with me looking like I became anorexic? I'm the genius, and I can't even begin to find a little clue to that assumption.

"Then what did happen?" Tina asks.

I shrug and look around. "Classified."

"Then I bet you were cutting or something."

"Yeah, I see how you would get that, but no."

"Starving yourself."

"Tina, I did not inflict self harm."

"Sure."

"If you want to believe that, fine, but it's not true."

"Cammie, we all know something happened. What?"

"I was on a mission."

"And got caught?"

"Yes, but I also escaped."

"So? You failed."

At those words, I look down and Zach steps forward with a murderous expression on his face. I grab his arm and tell him, silently, with my eyes, not to do anything. I'm fine. He shrugs it off and ignores me, stepping forward to Tina.

"Don't tell her that. She's been through more than you ever have and ever will. I suggest it be wise to shut up and carry on with your meal," Zach hints, a deadly tone to his voice. Tina's eyes widen as I wince at the fact the whole school is watching. She sits back down and stares at her food.

"Carry on," I mumble to the rest of the hall, turning and trying to go back to my dorm to get some sleep because I am exhausted. I don't think Solomon or Abby needed anything but to see Rachel surprised/unsurprised. I don't hear someone tailing me, and that's probably a scary thing, since I get to my dorm and am shocked when I find Zach behind me.

"What are you doing?" I groan. "I'm tired."

He motions to down the hall, and I follow him all the way to his room. It looks just the same as the last time I stepped foot in there. Right before I went to town to get those Christmas presents I never gave. Zach shuts the door and brings me onto his lap, leaning against the wall like 'usual'.

"Why did you keep running those first days? All the time, it seemed like you were just slipping out of my hands," Zach confesses, running his fingers through my hair. I trace small shapes over the stone beside and contemplate what to say.

"Well, I haven't exactly ever missed something," I start awkwardly. I stop the question forming on his lips by continuing, "I mean that I've never become attached. I was always on the move, from one place to another. But then the Academy started to feel like a home and I didn't want it taken away from me. If I got out, I became unattached, and I couldn't be hurt. Ever.

"But it wasn't just Gallagher," I breath, turning up so I can stare Zach straight in the eye. "It was you."

He looks at me with something like realization, disbelief, and joy. I take a deep breath and further my little speech. "You were the one who made me stay."

"It's okay," Zach tells me, kissing my forehead gently. "I understand. And thank you."

"Anytime."

**A/N: YAY! Okay, I know I said I would put up a poll for the sequel name, but there is a change of plans. There is only *sob* two more chapters left. I am leaving for vacation tomorrow, and they have no internet there, so I'm posting the second-to-last chapter early tomorrow. Then I shall post the last (Oh my gosh!) chapter on Sunday, when I get back. Afterwards, I shall post an awards page/an alert for when the sequel is up! ****REVIEW WITH POSSIBLE SEQUEL TITLES!**


	27. Chapter 27: I still have the scars

**A/N: Okay! I am such a flipping idiot. I posted chapters from Do I Want to Know? on here when I was editing. So to make up for it, I'm posting this chapter early. Finally, I'll tell you what the sequel's main objective is about next chapter. Yes, I'm evil, I know. So, despite all that, read on and review!**

"Mr. Goode!" my mom calls from down the hall. I decided to walk him to class, since Solomon nor Abby were adamant about having me out of class for week. Stupid family relations. Our heads turn to her simultaneously. Well, Zach's did, and since we were holding hands, I didn't really have much choice.

"Mr. Goode, you are excused from classes today," Headmistress Morgan informs us, filtering through a few files in front of her absentmindedly. She looks very Headmistress-like, wearing business heels and a flowing formal attire top with suit pants, but even under close speculation, I can't seem to find my mother.

Zach does a double take (and believe me, that's a very hard thing to get him to do). "I'm sorry?"

"Mr. Goode, you are not at this academy because of luck. Due to your classes and training, I believe you heard me. You are supposed to keep Cameron company today," Ms. Morgan tells him truthfully. I look back at Zach with a 'Eh, what the heck' expression on my face and he nods, shrugging. My blood mother soon walks away, leaving us in the hall.

Zach turns to me, smirking, of course, and asks, "Well? What do you want to do on this fine January day?"

I snort and look outside. "Walk?"

"Of course, Lady Cameron," Zach replies jokingly. My feelings are deflated by that memory of crawling through the duct, but I hide it and take his hand that he has offered oh-so characteristically. We exit through the front door giddily, excited to not have to go to CoveOps, or—yikes—COW. Of course, I didn't have classes in the first place, but I'm very happy I don't have to wander around the school all day by myself. How boring would that be? Very.

The grounds are cold and frosty, but I hardly feel the freezing temperature as we stroll around the perimeters of Gallagher. Zach, I can tell, is trying to take my mind off of everything. We chat aimlessly about classes and teachers and then, ten minutes before lunch, Zach turns the tables.

"I was wondering, Cammie," he tells me, our hands swinging between us, "if you could tell me about why you killed that man in town. How did you know?"

"Know what?" I reply quizzically, knowing very well what.

Zach stops completely and turns to face me, sighing and looking down at me, exasperated. I try to look innocent, but can tell he sees right through me. He brings his face closer to mine and softly says, "Know he was part of the Circle of Cavan, Cammie." **(Dang, that's a lot of C's!)**

I bite my lip and look right at him. His green eyes are dark and serious, just like the question. I look away at the ground and see a tiny snowflake landing on the ground lightly. Another miracle corrupted by landing here.

"Cammie, I know you knew. You asked, 'Why are you following me?' and I heard 'you' being the point of focus. You knew him. Who was he? Why did you kill him?" Zach rushes quietly, looking down at me carefully. He looks tender, but his desire to know is there. It bothers me that he knew. He probably knew him by chance he saw him at a meeting or something, but now he's asking how I did.

"I didn't know. Not until I saw you in the van," I tell him truthfully, looking down at the ground as I let go of his hands and turn towards the school doors to eat lunch. We've been walking for hours—three and one quarter, just in case you're curious—and I' hungry. So that's why, at eleven eighteen, I am the only one getting food from the table by myself since classes weren't out until eleven twenty.

_Finally_, at eleven twenty-two, while I'm nibbling on my chicken alfredo pasta, girls start to file in. The only girls I'm focused on, however, are my roommates. We'd agreed, last night, that we could catch up at lunch since I was about to fall over, tired. And now I'm sitting here with lunch.

Bex sits down in front of me, Macey and Liz falling into place on her left and right, and waves. I nod and finish my bite before saying, "Hi."

"Hi," Macey replies, "will you tell us what the heck is up with you and Zach?"

I raise an eyebrow and lean forward a bit. "What do you mean?"

"She means," Bex interrupts, "that we were walking to the Dining Hall when we ran into Zach. He seemed kind of down and confused. He wasn't in classes today. You have been excused for the week. Don't tell me he wasn't walking around with you."

I stare at them for a couple of seconds before I chuckle and say, "We didn't exactly have a fight, but more of like a pressing question."

"Which is?" Liz questions eagerly, Bex and Mace giving her a stern look.

I sigh and glance around, mumbling, "Why I killed the man in town..."

"HA!" Macey shouts, earning strange looks from the tables around us. "I knew it!"

I jump at her shout, but then frown. "...er, what?"

"We planted a bug on you," Liz admits sheepishly. "We just wanted to know if you'd tell us."

"We thought you'd given up on us," Bex explains further. "That you don't trust us now."

I shake my head, bewildered. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because we weren't there to get you," Liz whispers.

They all hang their heads shamefully and I look at them, incredulous. When I burst into laughter, they all look at me with confused expressions. Two minutes and three seconds later, I ask them, "You think I don't know Solomon stopped you? I got out, didn't I? I'm fine! Look at me, I'm here. Not dead. But if you'd broken in and tried to get me, we'd likely all be six feet under."

My face turns very serious. "You guys, if anything, saved me. You gave me a reason to get out."

"Along with Zach," Macey amends.

I nod and immediately repeat, "Along with Zach."

"Great," Bex says, "because he's right behind you."

I sigh and acknowledge, "Yeah, great."

Zach takes a seat (uninvited!) right next to me and greets, "Hello Gallagher Girl."

"Wipe that smirk off your face or I will do it for you," I threaten, agitated. I haven't looked at him, but I can tell that he's...just...argh! I start to stab my alfredo viciously and eat it quickly. Zach puts a hand over mine and stops my fork from moving.

"Easy, there, Gallagher Girl," he teases me. Bex, Macey, and Liz, are now all accompanied by their boys, and all six of them look very amused. Their hands are beneath their chins and they're all observing us with held-back smiles.

"What?" I snap at them. They all break out into grins and start laughing.

Grant wipes the tears from his eyes and says, "We haven't seen this in a while. What happened?"

I get up and scoot out of the lunchroom, irritated at everything all of a sudden. PMS? The rest of the day is...tiring. Running again. I duck in and out of passageways, sometimes only just avoiding Zach. He's trying to chase me down and it is horrible because he's goode. Really goode.

Dinner passes and I can't risk being seen by him, so I get up on the roof. I climb up the stairs at the very end of the dorm hallway and flip the panel up to just sit there. It's far too easy, in my opinion.

Silence. Beautiful, wonderful, amazing, perfect silence. The wind blows my hair to the wrong side, but I don't care because no one is around to see it but the stars. Is this my breaking point? Is this why I've been avoiding Zach all day? No, I haven't exploded yet. But it's going to happen sometime soon.

And I pity who will be around to take the blow.

Closing my eyes, I settle onto the grit of the flat shingles, simply savoring the moment. Until I hear the panel open.

My eyes are immediately on high alert. How does anyone else know about this? Of course, I'm probably not the only one who's examined the floor plans, but then again...why come here?

"Hey, Gallagher Girl," Zach says. I groan, but don't move. The stars seem dimmer, suddenly, and the world not so still. "We need to talk."

"No, we don't. I can't talk about this right now," I refuse.

Zach turns to me and asks, "Can't or won't?"

I remain silent, not knowing what to say. It's a mix of both, but I have a feeling he'll laugh if I say that.

"I'm going to ask again, Cammie. Why did you kill him?"

My blood boils. He acts like I have to tell him. I won't tell him because of our first meeting. I can't really hold him accountable, since he obviously doesn't remember/chooses not to remember/ was working for his mother/was thirteen. I just can't tell him.

_In the spy world, you are always held accountable_, a voice in the back of my head reminds me. I sigh and suddenly turn to him, my fists clench in rage and a sudden wave of anger overtakes me. I don't control my thoughts, my words, my actions. Nothing.

I'm not in control.

"Do you remember February tenth four years ago?" I ask quietly, sounding too calm for my taste. I scream at myself to stop, but she won't listen. I'm not Cammie anymore, I'm 'Cammie'. The one with the attitude that shows up her friends and mother and siblings. The one that likes to irritate her boyfriend and keep others away from her. I'm not me.

Zach's forehead wrinkles in confusion. "Cammie, what does this have to do with—?"

"Answer the question!" I shout. He looks scared, slightly, but not precisely. More...taken aback.

He sighs and says, "No, Cammie. I do not remember specifically February tenth four years ago. Why does that matter?"

I take a deep breath and calmly inform him, "Because on February tenth, there was a girl in your mother's office in Nevada. In Ash Springs. She did something not particularly...pleasing for your mother."

Zach's eyes widen as he remembers. 'Me' walks around behind him and trails my finger from the back of his right shoulder to him left as I continue, "You whipped her as punishment."

He looks at me seriously and growls, "How do you know all this?" His tone is deadly and cold. Just like me and him were in another life. Of course, he doesn't know that.

I give him a smirk and focus on turning my eyes hazel. Hazel, hazel, hazel. They're probably dark right now, but I can do it if I want to. 'Stop!' I tell myself. 'Don't do this to yourself!' I just laugh internally and finally grin. "Imagine me with auburn hair."

Zach turns his head sideways a moment and then snarls as he figures it out. He lunges forward and grabs my arm roughly. "Cammie, you know I wouldn't—"

"But do I?" I question rhetorically, raising an eyebrow and smiling sadistically. He stays frozen in place as I back up and take slow, deliberate steps toward the panel. My face drops suddenly as 'Me' drains from my body. I feel like crying as the last of 'Me' whispers, "I still have the scars."

I open the panel and am about to step into it as I pause momentarily. A split second thought crosses my mind as I look over the edge of the building. It would be so simple to just...jump...

I shake my head and run down the steps leaving Zach there on the roof.

The panel doesn't close behind me, which means he isn't following me. Good. Dinner is long over by now and all the girls are in bed. I make my way to the dorm and tears start slipping down my face rapidly as I stalk down the hallway. All of 'Me' is gone. Every single drop has abandoned me. I don't care anymore.

_In the spy world, you are always held accountable._

**A/N: Holy...oh my gosh. I didn't plan for that to be so intense. I wrote the general outline, but...yikes. I went a bit 'M' there, didn't I? Song of the chapter is 'Jar of Hearts' by Christina Perri. Anyways, the last chapter is going to be posted on Sunday. I'm nearly bursting into tears as I write this on Monday. Only a week before my baby is done. *Sobs dramatically * No, literally I'm tearing up...and I haven't even written the chapter yet! Pandula, ma arte me. (Haha, Tagalog) Anyways, please REVIEW! YOU ONLY HAVE A FEW CHANCES LEFT! **


	28. Chapter 28: Found and Beautiful

**A/N: I replaced the 'Do I Want to Know?' chapters, just so you all know. Please go back and read what really happened, if you're a guest and don't know! I'm so very sorry for the mix-up.**

**So, the time has come. It's the last chapter. I haven't even finished and I'm tearing up. Hoo, calm yourself, Cam. Calm. Okay, so, I made this chapter really long. Specially for you all. Thank you so much for your support, every one of you. I will give you an alert when I post the first chapter of the sequel, okay? You'll all get an alert on this story for when the sequel is up! Please read, I no longer need you all to review, though it would be much appreciated. READ!**

The door opens quietly, but Macey, Bex, and Liz are still up in a flash when they hear it. I switch the light on and see them looking at me in surprise. Liz's face crumples into a worried expression when she sees my tears, Bex looks confused, and Macey says, "Spill."

I give a little hiccup after a small sob escapes my mouth and shakily tell them, "I may or may not have just killed Zach and I's relationship."

Bex comes across the room and envelopes me in a hug, followed by Liz and Macey. We just stand there for a while, holding each other when Bex finally asks, "What happened, Cammie?"

They let me go to answer and I brush the tears off of my face and tell them, "It was something a long time ago. Me and Zach met somewhere and he had no choice but to hurt me...but he didn't know it was me because I had a disguise on and I got away. So now he says that he would never hurt me, but something came over me and I asked him 'Do I?' It was horrible."

"Aw, Cam," Liz says sympathetically, wrapping her arms around me again, "that's horrible."

I give a stuttering laugh and reply, "Yeah, I know."

They all start giggling nervously, and I can't help but remember when 'Me' said, 'You think that's funny?' and everyone stopped in their tracks. I have power. More power than a seventeen year old girl should ever have. Bex takes a deep, calming breath that seems to make me feel a bit more relaxed. Then she says, "Cam, it's nearly two in the morning. I think you should go to sleep."

I nod weakly and grab some blue silk pajamas Macey lent me before collapsing onto the mattress that, really does now have sheets. I lay there for a while and think. Will Zach explain to me? Or will we just continue on like we're enemies?

I don't want to be enemies. I love him.

_Zach_.

* * *

"Cammie," someone whispers, "Cammie."

It's five in the morning. Who the hell is shaking my shoulders and saying my name at five in the morning? I stretch grumpily and open my eyes groggily. Someone with dark, messed up hair, and dark green eyes is hovering over me.

I blink some more and focus on the person over me. It's Zach.

"Hey," I murmur, smiling at him. Something happened last night, but I can't remember exactly what...was it bad?

He looks impatient and confused. "Cammie," Zach says again, "we need to talk."

I feel my face darken as the memories from yesterday flood back. The scars, accountability, 'Me', Catherine, Nevada, roof.

Jumping.

I shake my head again and glare at him with a severity. "No."

"Please," Zach objects, "just let me explain."

He's looking at me with a sincere kindness, and I have to give him credit for that after what happened last night. I was a complete and total idiot, not to mention horrible person in general, last night to him and now he's coming to try and retrieve me?

I roll my eyes and throw back the covers, shivering in the January air as I get up to grab my jacket. Someone apparently brought it up from the train system while we were in Vegas. Sighing in disgust, I turn to him with a question, "Why should I let you explain, Zach?"

"Because I need you to understand why," he breathes huskily. I stare at him calculatingly for a minute, noting his obvious misunderstanding before continuing to shrug on my jacket over my pajamas. I flip my hair out of the back of my coat, then wheel towards him.

"I meant that I should be the one explaining," I inform him. He raises an eyebrow in surprise, but otherwise does nothing. I hold my breath, not quite knowing what to say, but when he does nothing, I just roll my eyes.

"Fine. Let's go," I say icily. He holds the door open for me and I'm about to let him close the door before I stop it with my fingertips to warn, "Girls, don't you dare try to follow us."

Bex lets out a growl of frustration from her bed by the bathroom and Macey simply throws up her hands in defeat from her mummy pose. I give a small smile as I follow Zach down the corridor sluggishly. He walks me out of the Girls' Dorm wing and down to the front foyer. My bare feet patter unevenly over the stone floors past the twin staircases and out the grand wooden door.

Once we're out, I stop with a sudden realization. "How did we just...walk out the door?"

"I asked Jonas to shut off the alarms," Zach explains with a shrug while we continue down the grassy hill. I huff and think, _of course you did_.

It's a silent walk. A very long and surprisingly not awkward walk. The sun is starting to show it's rays off in the distance, but it won't rise for a while. As we round the grounds, curving down the hilly landscape, we approach the pond.

The water is sparkling like crystal, but it's tone is a dark blue in the slight light. Why does everything here have to be so beautiful when we're some of the most horrible people on earth?

"Zach, where are we—?"

"Shh, Cammie."

Zach takes me to the tree. The tree me and Bex became friends at. The tree that highlights the pond as a view for the school instead of just a plain pool of water. Just the tree. I sit down at the foot of the trunk of the tree after Zach takes a seat there.

And we sit.

We just sit thinking, I suppose. Or maybe he's looking at the bird that's perched on the edge of one of the Boys' Dorm windows. Perhaps we're sitting because we can't think of anything to say (which would be sad, since A) we're spies, and B) we came here to talk).

"Cammie," Zach states. "Cammie, I need to explain why I did that."

"No you don't, Zach," I object. "We were thirteen. I was a random girl. Just another person there for a meeting with your mother. That doesn't mean I still don't hold you accountable. You still did that. But that doesn't mean I think you're a bad person, Zach."

"Cammie," he repeats for the millionth (okay, sixth) time, "I still need to explain. You might not think I do, but I'm going to be selfish and explain to get it off my shoulders, okay?"

I raise and eyebrow, but tell him, "Carry on."

"Okay...Cammie, I _did_ work for her, okay? I...I did. And then Joe found me and showed me the CIA. I'm a double agent, Gallagher Girl, the one to the side of the CIA."

I nod and my lips tilt up at the corners a bit. I take a deep breath and apologize, "Zach, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done what I did yesterday. I...ugh, why is this so difficult!?"

Zach laughs and smirks at my frustrated expression. I take a deep breath and collect my wits as I opne my eyes and continue, "I just...after I realized this, it was hard to contemplate the fact I'd let you and I kiss the way we did before the mission. It was hard for me to accept that you were once your mother's robot to me, even though I _know _you would never treat me like that now. I was a random girl, and...

"I just want you to know," I tell him softly, "that I love you for who you are. No matter what."

Zach stares at me for a second before wrapping me in a hug. "Thank you. I love you too."

I flush a deep red when I realize what I just said, (I wasn't supposed to say that out loud, per se) but I don't have time to do anything before he kisses me. We probably look ridiculous, me in my pajamas and a leather jacket while Zach is in his uniform already, but I don't care. I just want this moment to last forever, but I have to explain. Again. Yikes, there's something wrong.

"Hey," Zach whines when I pull away. I give him a suppressed smile and look at my hands, twisting them around with impatience.

"Since we seem to be on a roll with explaining," I start, laughing a bit, "I believe I owe you an explanation about me."

"You?" Zach questions, biting his lip and frowning. "What about you?"

I look at the ground and say, "Me. How I got here. I'm sure you've been rather confused about where I came from. About how I managed to train myself."

Zach squints a bit and looks around, eventually tilting his head to one side in thought. "Yeah, I suppose a bit. Where does Abby come in?"

I nod. "Yeah, exactly. So, after my dad died, I suppose, Abby took me in. I noticed she would disappear for days at a time, occasionally. Leaving me with food and entertainment, of course, I was nine. That's old enough to put some corn and beef in a microwave.

"When she was 'gone' for a time, I looked at her office, once. I was never allowed in there. So I decided to break in," I tell him. It was true. Abby always told me, 'Squirt, my office is off-limits'. The wooden door was thick, probably reinforced with steel in the middle. It took me seven hours to go through all the combinations for the lock. Finally, I put in: 39-17-05.

I was in.

"So I did. I found all of her mission documents. Believe me, I was not stupid. I could tell what this meant. Abby was a spy. I studied all over her fact files and learn names and terms. I ran away after this," I continued. It had been cold and dark in those sleepless nights. Abby had put up a CIA missing persons file, since she knew the police would make it public and anyone looking for me would know I wasn't safely in the CIA's grasp.

Libraries were the greatest things.

"I trained day and night, getting hurt at first, of course, but then I got better. I could knock out full-grown men. If I saw someone doing something illegal, I knocked them out, put them in an abandoned building, and then head to the library. I could use the internet for fifteen minutes to hack into the CIA and anonymously report intel about local drug scandals or assaults." At first, I was worried they wouldn't take the tip since it could be a dangerous little excursion going to an anonymous address, but as I watched from a distance, they took the hint.

"I pickpocketed the people I left knocked out. That's how I got food and such," I elaborate. It's true. They always had some kind of money on them, and I took it. Simple as day itself.

"The thing is, when I was twelve, I found the Circle. They paid me well and fair. Of course, I got away that day," I whisper hoarsely, "but it worked fine for myself."

Zach wraps me in a hug and kisses my temple as I confess my final words, "Zach, I was so, _so _lost for a couple of years. I feel dirty and horrible because of what I did with the Circle and have regretted it—"

Zach cuts me off with a sweet, slow kiss and smiles as the sun rises in front of us. "I don't care what happened with the Circle," he murmurs into my hair. "Because as of now, you're found and beautiful."

**A/N: Ah! I'm crying. Read that last scene again. Yep, that was kind of boring. But I loved the end! Please review to me.**

**Sequel objective: Cammie's family doesn't like Zach. DRAMA!**

**There, now you have it. **

**Will post when sequel is up!**

**But for now, it is goodbye, my lovely readers. THANK YOU!**


	29. AwardsAlert!

A Few of My Faithful Reviewers:

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(Ha, yeah. Few.)

Most Hilarious Review(s) Award:

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Note: When I started this story, I was nervous people wouldn't like it. It was a little tease chapter I came up with in the middle of the night that I was crazy enough to post on FanFiction. Thank goodness I did! Everyone, even if you only reviewed once or twice (maybe not at all!), thank you so much for your support. I don't think I could ever have written this story without you all. Everyone of you. This little plot has warped itself into a story that was rough, then got better as it went on. You know why? I got more reviews! I didn't even know how successful my story was on standard until I started reading other people's author's notes. They kept saying 'Oh, let's see if we can get up to fifteen reviews this time'. I have, as of July 15th, 2013, I have precisely _300 reviews_. Holy freaking god. _61 favorites and 112 followers. Plus over 22,000 views!_

I just can't thank you enough. Thank you for being so faithful and understanding and patient for me to finish my story. I've invested three months of my life into this and now I'm done! The sequel is not ready yet and won't be until further notice, but keep your eyes out! THANK YOU!


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